Nineteen Years Later
by xoxo yourstruly
Summary: CONTAINS DH SPOILERS. Takes place immediately after the epilouge. I'll make the summary vague as to not ruin the book for anyone.
1. New Beginnings Do Arise

_Alright folks, so THIS IS POST-DEATHLY HALLOWS. THERE ARE SPOILERS. Now that that's out of the way, this story takes off directly after the last sentence typed in DH. This little idea popped into my head and I would appreciate reviews though a lack thereof won't discourage me from further writing. Hope you all enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters mentioned herein. Except one or two. But honestly folks, I couldn't afford it if anyone sued._

* * *

Albus kept his gaze towards the window though it had been minutes since the train had rounded a corner and greenery had obscured his view of his parents. Trying to ignore the knot in his stomach, he kept telling himself that his fears were ill-founded but to no avail. His dad's parting words had given him a bit of confidence but still, he couldn't stop the scene of himself being sorted into Slytherin from unfolding.

"Oh, get off it, Albus, you'll be fine," snorted a cocky voice from the corridor. Albus jumped, as though his older brother had caught him doing something dreadfully embarrassing. James let himself into the compartment and sat down next to Rose. "Are you honestly worried?"

"No," answered Albus defiantly.

"Hm," was all James replied, with an air that clearly indicated he didn't believe his brother. While James loved picking on Albus, their entire family was close. It wouldn't be rare to find compartments full of Weasleys and Potters, no matter what year. "Oi, Victoire!" James bellowed.

A few footsteps later and a breathtakingly beautiful seventh-year popped her head into the compartment, smiling benevolently down at her younger cousins. She had inherited almost all of her physical characteristics from her mother including pale blonde hair that hung halfway down her back and beautiful pale blue eyes. She, much like Fleur, emanated beauty.

"So what's happening between you and Teddy? I didn't know you guys were…" James paused, trying to find words that would make him sound less immature.

Victoire, however, wasn't about to give him that chance. She rarely ever lost her poise and she especially wasn't going to be bothered by her second-year, rambunctious cousin. "We're friends," she answered coolly, letting herself into the compartment and sitting across from James.

James opened his mouth with a smart-aleck retort when a petite girl with black hair and ordinary brown eyes appeared in the door, hands on hips and a scowl on her face. "James, you said you'd be right back and you left me to deal with Natasha and Daemian who are bickering like babies in there."

"Abby," James huffed importantly, "can't you see we're having an important Potter-Weasley meeting in here?" he continued, a smiling forcing its way onto his lips against his will.

Abby looked to each face in turn. She might have only been a second year but she wasn't stupid. She knew about the Potters and about what Harry had done nineteen years ago. Somehow, seeing his relatives sitting in one central location made her feel oddly insignificant. These children were famous because their dad was famous. She was just a girl who happened across James Potter in a corridor of Hogwarts one day when she had forgotten the password. It seemed strange to her that they all act so oblivious to their famous last name. "Right," she said, suddenly quiet and shuffled off.

James' green eyes now conveyed a sort of guilt.

"Way to go Potter," Rose giggled, nudging James in the rib. "Who was that?"

"Abigail Krenshaw," he explained. "Her, Natasha Dayard and Daemian Chord are my best friends here," he finished.

Rose nodded thoughtfully, as if wishing she would make best friends as quickly as James had.

"Well, you three, I'm off," Victoire stated in her French accent tinged voice as she stood up and smoothed the wrinkles out of her robes. "Good luck Albus and Rose and try not to worry. And see you at the Gryffindor table, James," she winked at James as he stuck his tongue out at her, a ritual they had started years ago.

"I best be off too. I think Daemian and Nat might have killed each other by now and if that's happened, Abby won't know what to do," and with that, he curtly bowed out of the room, leaving Rose and Albus to their first day ruminations.

* * *

"So in all honestly, what do you make of the situation between our little Teddy Lupin and dear Victoire," Ginny said conspiratorially.

Harry pursed his lips in thought. He knew that Ginny and Hermione, on either side of him, wanted to find out his true feelings on the matter. Ron, on the other side of his wife, grunted as though he should have been asked his thoughts on it. The truth was, Harry couldn't think of a better match for Teddy. He felt he knew both Teddy and Victoire well enough to know that. After all, Harry had had a large hand in raising his godson. It was the least he could do after what Teddy's parents had done. While Teddy increasingly reminded Harry of Lupin, o his ability to constantly change his appearance at will made him act a bit like his mother as well. He had always been a favorite with the ladies but never before had he seen Teddy treat a girl the way he treated Victoire. "I think it's a wonderful relationship," he answered finally.

"Oh, I do too! Can you imagine? An official part of the family! Not that he hadn't been before, because after all, he's as good as family but…" Hermione trailed off, a happy look still on her face. Ahead of them, Lily and Hugo were chatting animatedly and were paying no mind to their parents' conversation.

"I can see them married…. and it's not even a long ways off. Victoire is a seventh year after all," Ginny piped up. "Can you believe it?" she added as an afterthought. "Everyone's growing up so fast. Albus and Rose already at Hogwarts, James a second year, Lily and Hugo going in two years…"

A pensive look had developed on the faces of the females and Ron cleared his throat in an especially masculine way.

"Mum," Lily whirled around. "Can I go to Hugo's house?"

"You mean Uncle Ron and Aunt Mione's house?" Ginny offered playfully.

Lily just blinked, unsure why her mother had just given her very obvious information.

"Well, as your Uncle and Aunt if they would mind having company."

Lily angled her body towards Ron and Hermione and repeated her question with even more excitement.

"Of course you can," Hermione beamed down at her niece, a vision of brightness with her impossibly red hair and shining green eyes.

"Ya hear that Hugo? We can do that thing we talked about," she said loudly before continuing to whisper hurriedly in her cousin's ear.

All four parents exchanged worried looks. Lily was a troublemaker who proudly took after her Uncle George.

Harry, who had been watching Lily and Hugo bounce along merrily, felt a hand envelop his. He looked over at Ginny, a soft smile on his lips. He hadn't said it in the conversation but he had agreed with his wife. Things were moving too fast. There were things he hadn't had a chance to yet explain to his children or his godson. It wasn't that he was intentionally hiding things but there didn't seem to be enough hours in the day. Suddenly, he was shocked by the understanding he felt for all of the adults he had given grief to during his Hogwarts years for not telling him absolutely everything. Suddenly, nineteen years later, he was hit by the magnitude that his children would never know the great men and women who had helped him so much along his way, who had, by dying, assured that he would be there so many years later, living happily with a family he had never thought would come.

"We could use the time Lily's at Ron's house for a few _housekeeping_ things," Ginny raised an eyebrow at Harry teasingly.

It took Harry a moment to realize what she was talking about as it was completely irrelevant to his chain of thought but realization dawned on him soon enough. "What a lovely idea, darling," he said in mock formality, resisting the urge to sweep Ginny off her feet then and there.

They had gotten back to the cars and Lily and Hugo clamored into the backseat as Ron and Hermione opened their respective doors. "'Bye, mate!" Ron said cheerfully. "We'll send your daughter back eventually."

All four laughed and Harry treasured the moment, grabbing it and putting it in an imaginary scrapbook. Ever since his death the first time around, he took absolutely nothing for granted.

Once Ron and Hermione had driven off, Harry turned his car on, pausing for a moment. "Did Hermione ever find her parents?" he asked Ginny, referring to the search Hermione had conducted numerous times over the last few years trying to find the parents she had sent to Australia.

"I don't think so," Ginny answered softly.

Not wanting to dwell on the matter, Harry kissed her smooth cheek and began driving. There would be a time and a place to think of all this just like there would be a time and a place to tell his children, in full detail, what had happened so long ago so that they could appreciate the courage that so many of their friends and family had demonstrated. But at the present time and place, Harry felt it his utmost duty to thank his wife for everything she had done for him in a very intimate way.

* * *

The train ride was halfway over, at least that was what Victoire had told him when she had come to check on himself and Rose but it seemed to be taking much longer than that. Rose had recently taken to hiccupping and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Rosie, you sound ridiculous!" Albus choked out between laughs as a particularly strong hiccup caused her body to shudder. She shot him a death glare but then managed to giggle before the next hiccup came.

A rapid knock on the door brought about absolute silence and Rose and Albus looked at each other, eyes wide in fear. Had they been too loud? Were they in trouble? A hiccup resounded and reverberated off of the silent shelves and seats.

"Excuse me?" a small, squeaky voice began as the door was pushed open. Standing in the doorway was a boy, first year by the looks of him, with disheveled dark blonde hair and curious brown eyes. "You sounded like you were having so much fun in here and my compartment was getting rather boring you see…" he began rattling on breathlessly.

"Well, come on in, if you want!" Rose offered generously, waving the boy in.

"I know who you are! You're a Weasley!" the boy pointed but took her on her invitation and sat himself down next to Albus. "And you're… you look just like…. Harry Potter!"

"Well, he is my dad," Albus muttered, unsure of why it was such a big deal to the boy.

"And who are you?" Rose probed.

"Dalton Wood."

"Wood? Like Oliver Wood?" Rose, the Quidditch aficionado, interrogated.

"Er… yeah," the boy admitted sheepishly.

"Hey! I think my dad's friends with your dad!" Albus offered happily.

The boy nodded again. "That's why I recognized you so fast. My dad has a picture with your dad in his study."

Albus wasn't quite sure what to say in response. Luckily, the need for response was put off when a cart rolled by, emitting the faint sound of bells. "What is that?" he asked, starting to feel slightly worried again.

"Oh, Al, it's just the food trolley, don't be scared. Imagine if the Sorting Hat found out you were afraid of the _food trol…" _a hiccup interrupted her sentence. Dalton unsuccessfully tried to suppress a laugh.

"I'm not afraid of the food trolley!" Al said in his defense.

Rose gave him a knowing look and stood up, peering into the corridor at the upcoming cart. She fumbled through her robe for the three Galleons her parents had given her for this very occasion. After a few moments, she re-entered the room triumphantly holding Chocolate Frogs and other colorfully wrapped sweets.

Al scanned her armload of candy and upon seeing no Bertie Bott's, ran into the corridor himself and returned with a few boxes of his favorite candy.

Rose wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Those beans are absolutely dreadful," she sniffed.

"Your loss," he shrugged, opening the box, pouring a few into his palm and offering some to Dalton.

"Thanks," Dalton said in a normal tone, obviously having grown comfortable with the pair after the food trolley incident. He poked through the beans, weeding out the unfortunate flavors.

"Aw, what's the fun if you don't eat the nasty ones?" Al demanded, cringing as he swallowed a particularly disgusting soap-flavored one.

"Laughing at the people who _do_ eat the nasty ones," Dalton explained logically, laughing at Al's face as he proceeded to swallow an earthworm flavored bean.

Rose giggled at Dalton's joke and Al found himself laughing along with them.

Not too much longer after that, a voice came by instructing all students to change into their Hogwarts robes. Al stood up promptly and began retrieving his, losing his balance slightly when the train lurched unexpectedly to the left. Not too long afterwards, the train had come to a complete halt and Al nervously twiddled with the fabric of his robe.

"Don't worry," Rose said gently, giving her cousin a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, it can't be too bad," Dalton offered, patting his new friend on the back.

Slowly, they all filed out of the train and the first years were rounded off away from the group. A familiar voice beckoned first years towards the boats and Al beamed up at his friend. "Hagrid!" he called happily.

Hagrid smiled at Al, bright-eyed and eager. "I'll be righ' with yeh. Gotta do my job," he said proudly, continuing to call the first years. Al caught James' eye and was sure that for a moment, his brother had tossed him an encouraging smile. Quickly finding Dalton and Rose, he followed them onto the nearest boat.

* * *

_Whatcha think? Good, bad... review dearies! Next chapter should be up tomorrow._

_xoxo _

_yours truly_


	2. Sortings, Letters & Things of the Past

_A/N- Thanks for the reviews and the reading you all have done so here, a day early, is chapter 2. Enjoy and review if you find you have time. _

_Disclaimer- [This'll just go ahead and apply to the whole story I own nothing that appeared in any Harry Potter series. If I did, chances are I wouldn't be here right now._

* * *

Harry could not have been more comfortable, warm under sheets and a blanket, his face nestled in Ginny's bright red hair. He took slow breaths, basking in the warmth of the moment, before opening his mouth to speak. "Gin," he mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah?" she answered back in a whisper so soft, Harry had to strain his ears just to be sure he had heard her.

Nineteen years later, there were still a lot of things he wanted to say, things he hadn't had a chance to talk about yet. He wanted to know how she was coping with losing Fred. He knew it had been a while but he also knew the pain of losing a loved one never fully went away. It had been well over nineteen years since he had lost his parents and Merlin knew he still missed them. "Gin," he repeated, this time with more purpose. "Do you ever… do you ever still miss everyone?"

Everyone was a word that, in this context, had come to represent Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Dobby, Dumbledore, Sirius, George's ear and anyone else who had died fighting Voldemort the second time around. "Yeah," she said after a long moment. Harry could hear her breathing heavily, as though the question still hurt to answer. "You?"

"Yeah," he answered without missing a beat, as though he had been waiting for her to ask that question. He wrapped his arm around her, listening to her heart beat and remained still for a few moments.

"Harry—how long will we miss them this much?" Ginny whispered, her voice constricted with emotion.

"For a long, long time," he answered truthfully, he pulled her chin up so that her gaze met his. That was all they needed to say. There was no point in going on about Fred or Tonks or how the war had been cruel in its lack of discrimination on who it had taken. "Er, I was thinking," Harry began with the clumsy air of someone trying to change the topic.

Luckily, Ginny seemed to sense that the conversation, as short as it might have been, had run its natural course. "Oh, after all these years, finally doing something productive!" she giggled.

Harry shot her a sneer and then smiled. "No, well, alright. I think we should build a pool," he stated simply, watching as complete bewilderment swallowed his wife's face. "It's a muggle thing. It's basically a whole in the ground filled with water so that the kids can swim in it."

"Why on earth would we build one of those?" Ginny asked, slightly appalled.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I just thought it'd be a good idea. You know, the kids could exercise and it's a bit relaxing…"

The look didn't change on Ginny's delicate features. "So it's a mini-version of the lake at Hogwarts?"

"Minus the merpeople," Harry offered.

Ginny seemed to be thinking it over. "I don't see why not… though I still don't see an explicit reason why either," she laughed, kissing Harry gently. "But if you want to dig a hole, fill it with water and throw Lils in before Al and James come back, you go right ahead," she said a bit teasingly, as though she still thought the whole thing was a rather bad idea.

Harry nodded, quite pleased with himself for the answer he had gotten out of her. She was as stubborn as hell and the fact that she was going to condone his little idea was something he hadn't really expected. After all, not many children born to the Wizarding World were familiar with swimming pools. "I think…" he began when an owl hurled itself at the window. Harry groaned, not wanting to get up.

"Fine. Be a lazy prat," Ginny teased, rolling back the covers and walking over to the window, letting the owl in. She took the envelope from its leg and walked back over to the bed. "Look," she cooed at the picture, which showed a beaming Lily, Hugo and Kate, George's daughter a year younger than Lily, on broomsticks, Hugo struggling to maintain his balance and Lily unsuccessfully trying to stop herself from laughing at him.

"That's my girl," Harry said proudly, examining the picture. "Kate's pretty good too, especially for being younger than the both of them," he said, pointing to the beaming red head at the far left of the picture.

"That's the Weasley gene," Ginny gushed excitedly.

"Is that so?" Harry countered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"Well, I was, after all, the better Gryffindor seeker," Ginny argued playfully.

"No, you were the never-banned-from-the-team Gryffindor seeker," he pointed out carefully.

Ginny rolled her eyes and tucked herself back under the blankets. "Of course," she acquiesced leaving Harry slightly confused.

* * *

Rose's '_Weasley_' was close to Dalton's '_Wood_' and Al could see the two of them chatting happily near the back end of the line. His '_Potter_' had put him a little past the middle, completely separated from the very few friends he had made so far. 'Dad said not to worry. Mum will love me no matter what,' he thought to himself over and over, repeating it like some sort of mantra. Still, each glance he cast over at the Gryffindor table made him queasy. The Weasley-Potter family was a close one. There was James, keeping a group full of second and third years rolling with laughter seated right next to Victoire who was gossiping away to her group of pretty seventh year friends. While they had their backs turned to each other, it was clear that they were next to each other, because they were family and because they stuck together. And what if Al was in Slytherin? He'd have to sit apart from his brother and cousin. 'Don't be scared, Al,' he tried to assure himself. 'Maybe… maybe I'm not brave. What if I'm too scared to be in Gryffindor?'

Suddenly, the entire Great Hall fell silent and he saw Professor, er, Headmistress McGonagall begin her speech. He had met her before, on numerous occasions when she had come to dinner at his house. His dad had told him she had once been Gryffindor Head of House, before the job had gone to Professor Finnigan. Al craned his neck looking for Seamus, who, much like McGonagall, frequented his house for supper.

In his great worry for what Seamus would think if Al wasn't put in his house, he had neglected to move up with the line, which had been moving with unexpected speed.

"_Davies, Anne!"_ Silence.

"_Hufflepuff!"_ the hat proclaimed and cheers erupted from those bearing the Hufflepuff crest on their robes.

"_Malfoy, Scorpius!"_

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

The far side of the hall exploded with cheers.

The boy looked perfectly pleased with her house. Al took a steadying breath and watch the rest of the ceremony until….

"_Potter, Albus!"_

The Hall filled with excited whispers. Albus approached the stool and sat down. He looked to McGonagall for some kind of reassurance. He saw her smile briefly at him but his view was soon obscured by the rim of the hat.

"_Another Potter_," the hat began thoughtfully. "_Much like your brother, your father and your grandfather, you prove an interesting personality. Much like them, you would do well in Slytherin but my guess is that Salazar's house is the last you want to be in…. very well… might I interest you in Ravenclaw? Perhaps instead of marauding, you can study…. No? Are you quite sure? Fine. Fine. You _are_ like your family, I suppose…. GRYFFINDOR!"_

Albus let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. If he wasn't mistaking, McGonagall was beaming with joy as he shakily made his way to the table of cheering children. He looked around for a place to sit and saw that somehow, Victoire and James had cleared an opening between them for him. He sat down and watched the rest of the moment with the serenity of a freshly sorted first year.

Finally, the hat had arrived at Rose. It had barely sat upon her head when it shouted "_Gryffindor!"_ She traipsed down to the table and sat across from Albus.

"I told you we'd both be okay," she whispered merrily

"_Wood, Dalton_!"

A moment of suspenseful anticipation.

"_Gryffindor!"_

Soon, the sorting was over and McGonagall turned to address the students. "Houses, my dear students, while as much a place for loyalty and comradery, are merely a formality. Almost twenty years ago, students from every House helped bring upon the defeat of the Darkest wizard of our time. It took an event of such magnitude to unite the four Houses, as Hogwarts has always striven to do. Now, however, this school has experience a surge of school loyalty rather House loyalty and I couldn't be more pleased…."

As she continued, Al could feel the heat of stares being shot at from every direction. He wasn't naïve enough to ask why. Instead, he merely feigned polite attention and soon enough, the food appeared.

"Eat up, little brother! Put meat on those bones! If not, you'll go too far to return when the Whomping Willow tosses you," James joked between bites.

Al laughed heartily. Now that he was sorted, everything James said seemed loads funnier.

"Delicious, non?" Victoire's unmistakable voice sounded on his left.

He nodded and wolfed down successively bigger bites of steak and kidney pie. Finally, when he had finished, he reached for some Treacle Tart, looking up at Rose and Dalton.

"I'm so excited!" Rose squealed. "Mum said we get our schedules tomorrow and she's already given me loads of advice on classes and professors and _you_," she said, pointing an accusatory finger at Al, "had better not be like my dad and copy off of my homework because I won't stand for it. I'll help you though," she softened as her goblet was replenished with pumpkin juice.

"Merlin, you sound like his mother," Dalton observed from where he sat next to Rose, licking the frosting off of a cupcake.

Rose crossed her arms across her chest and huffed, attempting to be offended but giving up as she reached for a slice of pie. Finally, the food disappeared and McGonagall began her closing speech. Al couldn't bring himself to pay attention, he was just so thrilled to be there. While he had grown up with magic and was relatively used to it, there was something enthralling about the enchanted sky and about the magnificent tapestry that hung proudly above each House table. The hourglasses filled with rubies and emeralds were captivating and he could see at once while his mum, dad, aunts and uncles all adored the place.

James prodded him in the side and got up. Al, blinking his green eyes, saw that many students were getting up and spilling out of the hall, saying hello to friends in other Houses and filing to their respective dormitories. Dalton, Rose and Al stayed together, following an authoritative voice that called out "First years!"

Al and James cast a wave towards Hagrid who saw them and waved back merrily.

"First years!" the voice persisted and Al quickly united with Rose and Dalton as they began the journey up to Gryffindor Tower. He took in the scene with reverend awe. Everything was more than he could have ever imagined. So immersed in the scenery, he was surprised when they finally got to the portrait of the Fat Lady he had heard stories about.

"Password?" she asked lazily.

"Lemon drops!" the voice spoke sharply and the portrait swung open.

* * *

"So I take it you told both Harry _and_ George that we won't be returning their daughters tonight, right?" Hermione asked as she charmed a few dishes in the sink into cleaning themselves.

"Yep," Ron answered instantaneously, sounding proud of himself.

A thud sounded in the sitting room and there were shrieks of laughter.

Both Hermione and Ron walked quickly into the room, surveying the scene. On the rug, in a fit of hysterics, was Kate, who seemed to have found her abrupt landing rather funny. Lily was sitting on the toy broom with natural ease, laughing quietly and Hugo was in a fit state like Kate, laughing so hard, tears were streaming from his eyes.

"Merlin, you had us scared," Ron breathed, the red that had risen to his face quickly residing. Another thud sounded, this time from the room of which they had left. Hermione motioned for Ron to stay and went to go fetch the owl that had no doubt flown into the window. She let in the dark colored owl, letting it perch precariously on the sill as she opened the letter. Her breath caught. She shooed the owl out with sudden urgency and slammed the window, almost running back to Ron. Without a word of explanation, she thrust the letter into her husband's hand.

She watched as his blue eyes scanned the letter…. she could see his face contorting with sheer confusion. "Bloody hell," he muttered, looking from the letter to Hermione then back to the letter.

None of the children seemed to notice. In fact, they had zoomed out of the room and were now wreaking havoc in another part of the house.

"You reckon Harry got one of these?" Ron uttered quietly, shaking the letter in his hand.

"Well, I assume so. I don't see why not. We'll ask them first thing when we take Lily back. I don't want to bother them tonight, it's late," Hermione answered in a crisp tone of voice.

Ron's face still wore an incredulous look. "Who'd have guessed?" he asked, more to himself than to anyone else.

"What do you make of it?" Hermione asked, falling into a rather sumptuous arm chair.

"I don't know. You're still the brilliant one, you tell me," he shot back, walking behind her and absentmindedly massaging her tense shoulders.

"I…. I…." she stammered but could come up with nothing. "I guess… we'll talk to Harry and Ginny in the morning. If anyone knows what we should do, Harry should."

"Yeah," Ron agreed half-heartedly. Another thud, another fit of laughter. A crash. Glass breaking.

"Alright, I think it's bedtime," Ron wandered off to collect the kids, depositing the letter into Hermione's lap and giving her a quick, reassuring kiss. Hermione read the letter one more time, to make sure she had read it correctly. It still read the same.

"Merlin," she muttered unbelievingly, and she wandered off to help Ron gather the kids.

* * *

James let out a soft yawn and tried to blink away the soft daylight that was now pouring in through the windows on either side of him. It was the first day of class. He grudgingly got out of bed and stumbled into his chest, bending down to unlatch it and father his robes. His brother and cousin were now at Hogwarts as well, he thought. He knew he gave Al a tough time but it was all brotherly affection. James continued thinking, still in a state of half-sleep.

"Oi, Potter, you're up early," came the groggy voice of Sebastian Smith, son of Zacharias and Lavender Brown.

"What?" James asked in reply, acting as though his senses had yet to wake up.

There were rustles as the other four boys in the room began to stir. James walked back to his bed and groped for his wand and glasses on the nightstand. Bad vision ran in the Potter family.

"Almost ready?" he called out to no one in particular. He didn't like to be alone, especially not walking down to breakfast when he always hoped conversation would perhaps cause his brain to wake up before classes began.

"Yeah," Daemian's voice drifted over from the next bed.

"Same," Sebastian added, sounding more awake than both James and Daemian, and tucking his wand into his back pocket.

"Don't put your wand there, your buttocks will blow off," James spoke nonsensically.

Sebastian shot him a perplexed look. Potter children.

Once the three boys who had been the first to wake were ready, they began the haphazard journey of making it to the Great Hall in a near catatonic state.

"Get along with your brother?" Sebastian asked curiously.

"Well, he is younger than me so I do hold up with the regulatory brother bullying system my Uncle George taught me about," James babbled. "But yeah, dad doesn't like us fighting."

There seemed to be a moment of silence for James' dad.

"Oh, don't do that, he's the same as any of your dads," James continued rambling.

"_Our_ dads didn't kill Voldemort," Sebastian offered.

"No, but yours helped," James pointed out, making slightly more sense the more they walked.

"Good morning!" came two sing-song voices James recognized immediately. He turned to see Nat and Abby caught up with them.

"I didn't know you left right after us," Daemian mumbled, looking as though he should have still been asleep.

"We didn't. You lot just walk so," Natasha offered nonchalantly.

Suddenly, James perked up, attracting curious looks from his friends. "Hey you four, I have an _excellent_ idea for our first weekend here," he said mysteriously.

"Yeah?" both Daemian and Sebastian asked in anticipation.

"Ever heard of the Marauders?"

* * *

_I hope you find, in the goodness of your hearts, time to review. Thanks for reading!_

_xoxo_

_your truly_


	3. To Err is Human, To Forgive is Not

_A/N- Thank you to everyone who's reviewed thus far. Melgirl1778, jessicagreen [and by the way, I'll take you up on that offer, Nefarious idiot, Zazzle, coca-cola addict, wandless, Sarah and Sofie, you all are great! So as you'll soon see, the focus on this chapter is not on the children but rather the adults. I'm not sure if that's what all of you were expecting but I promise I'll develop the kidlets' adventure in the next chapter. Just wait & KEEP READING[and reviewing if you'd be so kind!_

* * *

The only problem that there had ever risen from the marriage of Ginny and Harry was that they were both incredibly heavy sleepers and no owl could hurtle itself at the window with enough force to cause them to stir. Thus, it was no surprise, that most mornings, they had letters stuck through the mail slot, which Harry had insisted they put in for the sole reason of not missing any letters, or owls lined on their porch. This particular moment, there were two owls hooting crankily outside. Harry, who like his sons and most likely, also like his father before him, was not a morning person and so picking up his glasses and finding his way outside was more of a challenge than it should have been. He untied both letters from the owls' respective legs and let himself back inside, opening the one from Ron's owl first. It occurred to him quickly, however, that he had opened the wrong letter first. Ron's letter simply contained a single question, written in quick and sloppy penmanship:

_Did you get it, too? –Ron_

Harry blinked at the bizarre letter but then hastily opened the next one, which had coming from a magnificent, dark owl. Immediately, his eyebrows furrowed. Fighting his first instinct to wake Ginny, he summed quill and parchment and wrote down a reply to Ron.

_Yeah. I think…. are you going? –Harry_

He ducked into the living room where Ginny's owl, Sophie, awoke with a rustle of feathers. He fastened it to her leg, pushed open the nearest window and watched her flutter off towards Ron and Hermione's house. Once the owl had gone, he looked at the letter again, feeling more curious than anything else. What had wrought upon this invitation? What would happen if he and his wife, as requested, appeared at Malfoy Manner for supper that Wednesday evening?

While many things had been mended after the war, the relationships between Weasley-Potter and Malfoy had not. Never had Draco muttered a word of apology for everything that had transpired between them culminating since their first year at Hogwarts. He knew that, whether he wanted to or not, Ginny would "strongly advice he go" and come seven o'clock, he'd find himself in the house he had been in only one other time.

"What are you doing up?" Ginny asked, sounding much more intelligent than Harry did in the mornings.

"Letters, answering them," he supplied slowly, slowly regaining the power of speech.

"Hm," Ginny breathed, plucking the letter out of his hand. Her face remained placid as she read. "Looks like we have plans for the evening," she stated plainly, as though Malfoy was an old acquaintance rather than someone who had, unsuccessfully, tried to kill her husband. Sophie fluttered back in through the open window, hooting happily and sticking her leg out for Ginny to retrieve the letter. "Aren't we popular today?" she asked, unfolding the parchment. "I think this is for you…. I'll go charm something into making us breakfast," she added, walking off towards the kitchen.

_Yeah, Hermione reckons we should go. I asked if she _really_ wanted to go to the home of the man who wanted her dead but she told me to stop living the past. Right good advice I suppose but still—Malfoy and Parkinson! Well, mate, see you tonight. Mione'll bring Rose by in a bit. –Ron _

Harry nodded as though the words on the paper could see him and placed the letter next to Sophie's cage. "Ron and Hermione are going, per Hermione's request," he added the last part in sarcastically and joined Ginny in the kitchen.

"Somehow I figured things would work like that," she smirked, watching the pots and pans make eggs and bacon. She hadn't inherited her mother's knack with food. While hers turned out edible, it wasn't the _incredible_ food Mrs. Weasley was known for.

"I guess I'll have to wait and get the good stuff later," Harry observed, pointing to the food Ginny was cooking.

The grin vanished from her face.

Instantly, Harry realized it was too early for jokes. "Kidding," he said feebly and sat down next to Ginny silently, the smallest hint of laughter still bouncing in his green eyes. "Come on, let's write to our children."

* * *

When Al arrived at the breakfast table, he wasn't surprised to see he had beaten James. He settled in next to Victoire with Dalton beside him and Rose across. After answering Victoire's polite questions about how he had slept, he dove into a tray full of bacon.

"I'm so excited! Mum's already taught me loads of stuff about History of Magic and I hope we have that today. I'd like to have a class I know a little about. It'll be a sort of confidence boost," Rose chirped merrily, buttering herself a toast.

Dalton, who still seemed unsure of what to make about his new female friend, merely grunted some sort of response and continued eating.

"Ooh," Rose cooed, pointing up at the sky. At least fifty owls were storming in, dropping packages and letters at children with bright, excited eyes. A familiar owl deposited a letter in Al, Rose and Dalton's laps.

"We almost missed the post. Nat, Abby, you will not make us late tomorrow," his brother's playfully arrogant voice echoed from a few seats down the table. The girls laughed, not so much at his joke, but more at his attempt to sound pompous.

Al hurriedly retrieved his letter from his lap and almost ripped it in half during the opening process. Reading his parents words, surveying the change in handwriting whenever his dad wrote something in the margin contradicting his mum, it all brought him confidence and a wave of warmth. He and Rose finished reading at about the same time and looked up at each other, both smiling widely. Al peered down the table and saw his brother with the same expression, though surreptitiously pocketing the letter in the event someone asked to read it.

Dalton, whose letter had been extremely long, ruffled the pages with a bit of impatience. "I sometimes think my mum has letting go issues," Dalton frowned down at the pages, though Al could see the boy was still thrilled to receive word from his parents.

"Schedules!" the familiar voice of Professor Finnegan cried out, but Al continued eating.

The passing out seemed to have gone faster than expected for soon, a piece of paper appeared in front of him as well as a, "Welcome, Al, Rose." He peered at his schedule. Herbology, Double Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic… he felt excitement building in the pit of his stomach. He also felt Rose watching him, as though measuring the few more minutes she was going to give him to eat before dragging him off to the Greenhouses.

Someone gave him a little shove from behind and he turned in time to see James give him a smile. Al smiled back. Everything about James was carefree; from the wild messiness of his red hair to the relaxed wrinkle all his clothes seemed to sport… it was hard not to feel at least a bit careless.

"Have a good day, Al, Rose," Victoire spoke in a surprised tone, as if she had forgotten her little cousins were sitting next to her.

Al felt a twinge of guilt as he looked at Dalton, pretending to be engrossed in the last page of his letter. Everyone knew him and Rose and yet Dalton never gave any sign of annoyance for constantly being excluded by other people. He looked down at his friend pityingly and then stood up, following Rose's cue and poked him in the back. "Come on," he prodded happily.

Dalton, without a word, stood up and followed the pair of red and black hair out onto the grounds.

"It's beautiful here," Rose breathed, almost unnecessarily. The beauty of Hogwarts was in fact undeniable and went without saying. Al decided not to point this out.

"So what'd your mom and dad say?" Al asked conversationally towards Dalton, who had fallen quiet.

"Just that they hoped I had a good first day and to say hi to you," he added, with a smile. "Wait till I tell them I _know_ you and that you're an absolute nutter," he laughed.

"Wait, why?" Al asked, offended.

"Well, you say you have an Invisibility Cloak…"

"I do! Dad gave it to me!" he said hurriedly and defensively. "It's just… somewhere in my trunk. My mum's not the best at packing and that sort of thing and she helped me so I don't know where half my stuff is. I'm not wearing socks 'cause I can't find 'em," he added, sticking his foot out to demonstrate how truthful he was being.

They reached the Greenhouse and let themselves in, smiling up at Professor Longbottom, who was positively beaming at the sight of his two most anticipated pupils. "There you are!" he greeted them, resisting the urge to hug them.

"Hi, Ne…. Professor Longbottom!" Rose beamed. She had always gotten along well with Neville. Neville ushered them to their seats and Al leaned over to whisper to Dalton.

"I reckon we can't do badly in this class or he'll tell my mum," he said slowly. Dalton stifled a laughed.

"Alright, class, let's begin."

* * *

The day had gone in a flurry of talk and preparation for the dinner at Malfoy Manner that night. Lily and Hugo had been taken to George's house, which Harry and Ginny had done with some trepidation seeing as how they hadn't been with their daughter the night before either, hair had been coiffed, nice robes had been donned and finally, Ginny and Harry apparated to the gate of Malfoy Manor, where they had arranged to meet Ron and Hermione before going in.

Harry tried to hide his deep dislike for the place as well as Ginny was—her face was positively emotionless but Harry knew her well enough to know that she was second guessing whether this had been a good idea. A loud crack echoed off of the stately gates and Ron and Hermione arrived, mirroring the expressions Harry and Ginny wore.

"Well, let's go in," Harry muttered as they began the procession up the darkening lawn.

Hermione was clutching Ron's hand tightly. The last time she had been here, she had been put under the Cruciatus curse, an incident she didn't plan on forgetting anytime soon. Ron was thinking about how he had nearly died on that very property and Harry was thinking about how Dobby had been killed in the living room they were very shortly about to enter.

Before they reached the door, a house-elf creaked it open. "Come in. Master and guests are expecting you."

Harry stood up a little straighter as they made their way through the tiled foyer and into the dining room. Nothing about the house had changed since the last time they had been there.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, drawing his attention to the guests. It seemed to be a table of people he had never gotten along with. There were Malfoy and Parkinson and next to them, Zabini and a girl that looked a bit like Daphne Greengrass and rounding out the group was Goyle with a girl he didn't recognize.

"Potters, Weasleys, have a seat," Draco motioned to the four empty chairs, his trademark sneer playing on his haughty features. The quartet did as told stiffly. "We were just about to start eating but we decided to wait for you."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Hermione struggling not to ask the question they were all thinking: _Why had Malfoy called them there_? An array of house elves began bringing out the food and soon the room was filled with the clinking of silverware and mutters of "delicious." Harry concentrated on eating more than anything else and thankfully, all three courses were finished with minimal conversation from the Potter-Weasley end of the table.

Finally, the sun had set and the only thing visible outside was darkness. "Goyle, Zabini, thank you for joining me today," he said dismissively and soon, four people stumbled out of the room. He then, at last, turned to his most confused invitees. "I suppose you are wondering why I invited you here and sat you on a table with the people not in Azkaban that you hate most," he uttered with an air of superiority.

"Yeah, that'd be the general idea," Ron shot back.

Malfoy remained unfazed. "It has been over twenty years since we've had our minor disagreements…"

"Minor disagreement doesn't begin to explain it. Joining Voldemort, I think…. and trying to kill me goes a bit beyond that," Harry countered, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

Pansy sniffed but other than that, no one reacted. "Yes, well, what is the phrase… forgive and forget," Draco continued.

"I'm afraid I don't think I can do either. Malfoy, you tried to _kill_ me. You tried to kill my friends and the people who mattered most to me. Had you had your way, I wouldn't even _be_ here."

Draco looked mildly amused. "Yes, well, I've learned from my mistake and I don't think we'll have to worry about me trying to kill you anymore," he stated plainly, lifting his hand to beckon a house elf. His sleeve rolled down and Harry saw the Dark Mark tattooed on his arm. He knew it was something that never went away but for Harry, it was a sign as to why he shouldn't accept the apology. "But it seems to me, that the problems you are having in moving on are directed more towards my aunts, uncles and the Dark Lord himself."

"He's dead, don't call him that. He deserves no respect," Ron spat. Harry had forgotten he was there.

"Fine, Voldemort," Draco corrected carelessly. An elf came and Draco demanded a glass of Firewhisky. "Would you all like anything?"

All four fervently shook their heads. Harry could still hear Mad-Eye's advice: "Don't drink anything offered to you by an enemy." It had helped him out his fifth year, what was to say it wouldn't help this time. The elf scampered off. He could feel the anger radiating off of Hermione somewhere behind him.

"You, above all people, Potter, should know that you can't control the families you're born into. Why you are holding me accountable for my family's actions, I cannot understand. You don't see me blaming you for landing my father and mother in Azkaban."

"Because you know as well as I that they killed innocent people!" Harry was having a difficult time keeping his temper under control.

"My mother never did anything! What am I to tell Scorpius when he realizes that he will _never_ see his grandparents…"

"The same thing I had to tell Teddy Lupin! That they are _gone_, Malfoy. Except in the case of Teddy, his parents died doing something admirable…."

"Admirable, much like the term 'good', is subjective. To many other people, what the werewolf and the blood traitor died doing was _stupid_…"

"Shut it, Malfoy!" Harry had sprung up and drawn his wand.

"Is this how you treat your host?" Malfoy retorted without an inkling of fear in his voice.

Harry was shaking with anger. He looked at his trembling hand and turned on his feel, ducking out of the room quickly and soon, those who remained heard the echo of a closing front door.

"Harry James Potter!" roared Ginny a few seconds later, chasing him out onto the lawn.

Harry whirled around, still gripped with anger.

"I know he was being a prat but…. we need to fix things! We can't continue with the same petty problems we had. I'm sure your mum, dad, Fred, everyone, would have wanted every conflict that was a piece of the war resolved."

"He's still the same."

"Except he's not killing anyone, Harry, and that makes all the difference! He's a prat, yes. You can't change his appearance but what if he turns out to be like Snape and…"

"He won't be like Snape!" It was Harry's turn to yell. "Snape was a great man…"

"You didn't seem to think so for the longest time," Ginny said in a breathy whisper. "I'm going back inside," she said after a moment but she didn't move. She was waiting for a response.

"Fine," he finally breathed and remained stationary. He heard her footsteps canvas the length of the yard and then retreat inside. With one last angry breath, he apparated home.

* * *

_Fin of Chapter 3. I'll try and post Chapter 4 up today or at the latest, tomorrow morning. Keep reading folks! Recommend it to your friends haha. But seriously, you all are great._

_xoxo_

_yours truly_


	4. Nighttime Wanderings and Bedtime Spats

_A/N- Hey guys! Thank you so much for the reviews you've all written and for the loyalty you constant readers have shown. Thank you bunches!!!!_

_and for Disclaimer, see chapter 2._

* * *

"OW! Geroff me, Sebastian!" James cried, shoving his friend off towards his respective bed.

"Well, if you could turn a light on in here, Potter, I wouldn't have fallen onto you in the first place," Sebastian retorted angrily.

"_Lumos_," Daemian, the only sensible one, muttered and instantly, light vanquished the darkness out of the room.

"Thanks," James muttered, unfolding the map and spreading it on his bed. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. Come here you lot, come see!" he cried excitedly.

Daemian and Sebastian clamored onto the bed and peered at it wondrously, eyes wide with amazement. Little dots bearing the names of teachers they all knew were moving around on the map, heading to beds, offices and one lone dot was pacing in a circle in the Headmistress's Office bearing the name _Longbottom_. The boys, in their excitement, overlooked the oddity that was a Professor in that particular office while the Headmistress was out. "Look, we can't get Nat and Abby. Uncle Ron told me that if a boy tries to go up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, the stairs kick him out or something," James muttered the end, having forgotten it. "So it's us three, mates."

"Who are these people?" Daemian asked, pointing to the heading proudly bearing the names Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.

"They were the original Marauders. Look, my granddad was that one," James announced, positively beaming, pointing to where Prongs was emblazoned on the parchment. "Padfoot was Sirius Black and Moony was Remus Lupin."

Daemian and Sebastian listened, jaws dropped. "What about Wormtail? Who was he?" Sebastian piped up.

James shrugged nonchalantly. "Dad doesn't talk about him much. I never asked. I think he mentioned him once or twice. Peter something or another. So are we going on with this or…?" James stopped midsentence, having remembered an important item they were missing. "Hold on, I have to get something from my trunk. Here, Daemian, hold this," James instructed, thrusting the map at his friend and going over to the trunk where he rummaged for a bit before he produced the Invisibility Cloak from the bottom of his trunk. "Nicked it from Al. Dad thought we should both have something of us but what good's the map without the Cloak?"

"Well, at least give it back. He'll think he lost it and imagine if he writes to Harry Potter that he lost the Cloak when you have it the whole time," Daemian reasoned with a tone of awe.

"Right then," James interjected, "We ready?"

Sebastian and Daemian nodded eagerly, they had heard of the Marauders in the context of: _The Marauders were the biggest troublemakers, save for Fred and George Weasley, Hogwarts has ever seen _and were keen on adding their name to that infamous list.

James threw the Cloak over all three and pulled the map out. "Daemian, do that charm again."

"_Lumos_," Daemian muttered.

"Second thought, you look over the map and I'll lead the way. Tell me which way to turn."

"Where are we going exactly?" Sebastian interrupted rudely.

"No where _exactly_. We're going to have a look around is all," James said innocently. Daemian snickered.

The answer proved satisfactory seeing as how no one said a word until the trio was safely out of Gryffindor Tower and making their way down a corridor James could never remember walking through.

"Chord, what does the map say? Where are we?" James demanded in a harsh whisper.

"I don't know how we got here. We're… er… on the fifth floor."

A crash somewhere down the hall drew the boys' attention. Daemian checked the map hurriedly. "It's Professor Finnigan," he mouthed to James and Sebastian. The boys looked positively horrified.

"Don't move," James breathed, standing perfectly still. Footsteps drew closer.

"Oi! I don't know who else you have under that coat with you, Potter but you seem to have your dad's knack for landing yourself in trouble."

James scowled horribly. He hated the fact that the professors who had been his father's friends knew about the Cloak and assumed he would have given it to one of his sons. It sort of took the whole element of surprise away. 'Unexpected crash? Probably James Potter under the Invisibility Cloak,' James thought sourly. He _could_ always run and pretend he had been warmly in bed the entire time but he wasn't sure he'd get anywhere fast, since they _were_ lost.

As the lone figure that was Professor Finnigan approached, James motioned for his friends to tiptoe after him down the hall…. it was always worth a try. They creeped down the hall, keeping as silent as was possible, trying not to breath, seeing as how Professor Finnigan was now on their heels.

James could sense the panic beginning to emanate from his friends but he continued forward. There was a cool sensation and he felt fabric brush against his face. He braced himself before turning around, prepared for the worst. He was face to face with Professor Finnigan, who had reached out and pulled up the Cloak while he had been turned around. James' first reaction was to glance at Daemian's hands and hope that his friend had put away the map before they had been caught. He had.

Seamus looked a bit surprised to see the three in front of him. "Chord, Smith and Potter," he stated in an amused tone, "I suppose that you know that what you're doin' is wrong. "

All three boys nodded seriously.

"I should take points away from Gryffindor…. but McGonagall wouldn't always do it and she's _Headmistress_ now so I reckon there's no harm in letting you three off with a very severe warning!"

"Seamus?" echoed a different voice from somewhere down the corridor. There was a scurry of footsteps and sooner than any would have expected, Professor McGonagall stood next to Seamus, surveying the scene. "What is this?" she demanded shrilly.

"Potter, Chord and Smith were wandering the halls with Potter's old Invisibility Cloak," Seamus explained guiltily.

"Potter gave _you _the Cloak?" she asked unbelievingly. "Well…. I suppose it doesn't carry quite the same stigma now that the wand is gone…" she muttered and James was sure she hadn't intended for him to here that. "Now did you boys manage to cause any mayhem tonight?" she demanded again, this time looking down at the cowering second years.

"No ma'am," Daemian answered quickly.

"Not yet, anyway," James added innocently, blinking up at the professors.

"Talks just like George, that one," McGonagall observed, this time a bit of softness in her voice.

"And Fred," James interjected loyally.

"Yes," McGonagall agreed after an awkward silence. "And Fred. Now, five points from Gryffindor and off to bed you three." No one moved. "Now!"

* * *

Harry had lain down on the bed almost as soon as he had gotten home. He had heard Ginny come in and put Lily to bed but was on his side, pretending to be asleep. The truth was, there was too much rage and indignation swirling in his head like a corrosive whirlpool for him to be able to sleep properly. What had Malfoy meant by that dinner? It was obviously not to apologize…. if it was, he had to practice a few more times before he finally nailed down that art. It seemed as though Malfoy had no remorse. 'He didn't exactly do anything to you or anyone, Harry,' a little, insistent and annoying voice spoke from somewhere in the whirlpool. Harry ignored it grumpily. 'And you know he's not going to apologize for everything the Death Eaters did. He doesn't want to talk about it, his side _lost_,' the voice continued.

The fact of the matter was that Harry wanted Malfoy to feel _remorse_ for what he did. Malfoy, though on the losing side of the war, had come out with fewer losses than Harry had. Both of Malfoy's parents were in Azkaban but that paled in comparison to the people Harry had lost. It wasn't a fact he was proud of or anything…. it would just make him feel loads better of Malfoy could just express at least the _tiniest_ hint of sadness for everything that had happened.

Again, Harry breathed angrily. He knew he was being irrational. The only thing that would do him any good would be to go to sleep and allow his emotions time to settle. He let his body relax and he tried to clear his mind of all emotion but he was having just a hard time with it now as he had back when Snape had tried to teach him Occlumency.

_Snape_. Harry had hated Snape for as long as Snape had been living. He had been wrong about what kind of man he had been. But the persistent voice in Harry's head told him that if he showed any inkling of tolerance towards his former Potions professor, things wouldn't have gone according to the plan Dumbledore had put forth. Still…. that didn't stop the feeling of guilt from overwhelming him every now and then. 'He didn't do it for _you_, you know,' the voice interrupted rudely.

_No_, Harry thought back. But he had done it for _love_. He frowned. So much for clearing his mind.

"Harry, I know you're awake," Ginny whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder. He didn't move. "I've forgiven him, you know. That doesn't mean I can stand the git but I have…. you know…"

"Why?" Harry near screamed, rolling over to face her. Even in the darkness, he could see her face begin to flush red. "What sort of potion or charm did you slip you when I had gone?"

Ginny scowled at him. "None. But he did offer something resembling an apology and he isn't the entire Death Eater league, Harry. He wasn't the one who killed all those people."

"But he _helped_. If he had things his way, he would've been the one to kill!"

"The way things turned out was that he didn't have the chance. Do you think if both his parents hadn't been the way they were…"

"My parents are dead and you don't see me following suit," he said rudely.

"Harry James Potter, if you're not going to listen, I won't bother to explain it to you."

"Fine," Harry countered stubbornly, turning back around. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to force sleep to come.

"You'll be sane in the morning," he could have sworn he heard Ginny whisper but soon, he was asleep.

* * *

"AL! AL! AL! WAKE UP!" Rose screeched, hitting Al repeatedly with some sort of cloth.

"Wha'?" Al blinked before burrowing himself under his covers.

"No! AL!" Rose continued to shout, causing angry murmurs from the other people in the dorm.

"What?" he finally got up, glaring angrily at his cousin.

"Look what was sitting on the foot of your bed," she announced proudly, now having resumed a normal tone of voice.

Al instantly recognized it. "First off, what were you doing in here?"

"Well, I just thought you'd want to use your Saturday to its fullest so I was going to come wake you up," Rose explained sensibly.

"For the record, don't wake me up on the weekends," he advised, his face flushing with happiness at having found the Cloak.

"Want to go wandering this weekend?"

Rose scrunched her pretty face up. "I don't know. I don't want to get in trouble."

"Rose, come on! Trouble's in your family's genes!" Al urged.

"Maybe," Rose finally responded.

By now, the noise of the discovery of the Cloak had woken up most of the children who were now slipping into robes and casting Rose nasty looks.

"What was all the yelling about?" Dalton asked curiously, wandering over to Al's bed where the Cloak sat splayed in his lap. "Whoa! You really do have an Invisibility Cloak!"

Al fought the I-told-you-so look that seemed to want to commandeer his face.

"Wonder how it made it to the foot of your bed?" Rose questioned thoughtfully.

Her cousin rolled his eyes. Now that the Cloak had mysteriously re-entered his room, he had little doubt that James had taken it upon himself to call first dibs on the Cloak. But he decided not to let himself grow sore over it. After all, he did have the Cloak now and he was sure that eventually, he would find reason to go and nick the Marauder's Map from his brother.

"This is wicked awesome! Imagine of all the things we can do now! We should pay some of the third years to buy us things from Weasley's Wiz…" Dalton, who had obviously had time to mull things over, looked at Rose and Albus, his face alit with a new idea. "Or better yet, do you think your Uncle George would mail you things if you asked?" The boy nearly screamed with excitement.

"Yeah," Rose, who had not looked up at Dalton, retorted matter-of-factly.

It looked as if Dalton was doing his best not to wet himself.

"Calm down, mate," Al laughed, patting his friend on the back. "C'mon, let's go get ready for breakfast."

Once fully dressed, Rose, Al and Dalton trooped out of the Portrait Hole along with a flock of other Gryffindors.

"Did you hear, James Potter got busted last night for wandering the school along with Sebastian Smith and Daemian Chord," a third-year whispered to his friend secretively.

Al stopped dead in his tracks. James had taken the Cloak to go wandering and now if all the teachers knew about it… instead of a look of worry, happiness crossed his face. Now if all the teachers knew about it, they would think it James Potter who was creating problems all over the school. Al had never been one for glory so he figured, if James wanted to the credit for what Al planned to do, it would be a perfect arrangement that James wouldn't have to know about.

"Why'd you stop?" Rose asked, backtracking a few steps so that she could be next to her cousin.

"Nothing," Al said hurriedly, taking large steps to catch up with Dalton and trying his best to act nonchalant.

"Come on, Al, we're cousins. I can tell when you're lying and now would be one of those times," she badgered.

"Fine. I just heard that James had gone out with some of his friends exploring and had gotten caught," he shrugged.

Rose raised her eyebrows pointedly and pursed her lips. "Well, he needs to be more careful next time."

"You _are_ Aunt Hermione's daughter," he laughed, mimicking a phrase he had heard his parents use loads of times.

Rose huffed and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "So what if I am? That makes _me_ sensible."

Dalton and James exchanged looks before starting to snigger. Rose glared at them and the trio continued walking in that fashion until they had finally arrived at the Great Hall.

They pushed their way through a large crowd and found seats near the center of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see James pleading with Victoire.

"You have Herbology Monday, don't you Vic?" he asked as politely as he could.

"I do but I already told you, I will _not_ ask Professor Longbottom as to where he was last night," she shot back impatiently.

"But come on. Daemian pointed it out to me. He was in Professor McGonagall's office _all night_," James pressed.

"Well, what he does is his business and his alone," Victoire answered with so much conviction, James took the cue and went back to his seat moodily. He looked up and saw Al watching.

Al threw a curious look in his brother's general direction and then turned his full attention to the array of splendid food in front of him.

* * *

_So what did you think? For some reason, this chapter proved a little difficult to write but c'est la vie. Now duckies, bad news, the next chapter will not be up today and at the earliest tomorrow afternoon. While I would have loved to stay with my 2 chapter a day trend, I'm afraid reality is getting in the way. Well, thanks for reading, now if you have time, pretty please review and I'll update as soon as I can._

_xoxo_

_yours truly_


	5. Unexpected News, Visitors & Dots on Maps

_A/N- This, at the current moment, is the longest chapter I've written and I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks to Blindingfirefly, lemonwedges4, AirGirl Phantom, primadonna001, xking23, Kate, Insanitic, Nefarious Idiot [and thanks for pointing that out. You're absolutely right, Kate, megangelrox, coca-cola addict and Riceacake for the wonderful support you all have given me. And here, without further ado, is chapter 5._

* * *

Ron looked dubiously out the window, as though it was very possible the sky was merely imitating sunlight and it was, in fact, still night. But the sun did not change positions and the blue sky continued to shine beautifully. He wiped his tired eyes and collapsed into a chair. Had it really only been last night when Ron had wandered into Malfoy Manor and actually _witnessed_ his sister and wife forgive him? Ron looked up at a calendar, nodding glumly.

Hermione whirled into a kitchen in a flurry of brown hair and pastel colors. She was the foil to Ron, who looked at his wife with a bemused expression. "All right, you Polyjuice impersonator, where is Hermione?"

Hermione glowered at Ron before charming a few pots and pans. "Is it a crime to be in a good mood, Ronald?"

"No," he answered tiredly.

"I think you're letting this whole thing get to you too much," Hermione stated plainly, her back turned to him as she flourished her wand some more and more pans sprang to life. When no answer came, Hermione turned back around, worry wreaking havoc on her usually pleasant features. She walked over and pulled a chair so that she was next to Ron. Taking his own hand in hers, she surveyed his blue eyes softly. "Listen to me; everything's going to be fine. You can't assume everyone's bad."

"So you want me to assume everyone's good?" he asked in an almost accusatory tone of voice. The anger that had momentarily built up in his face crumbled as quickly as it had come.

Hermione scrambled for words. It was a challenge convincing Ron to put it behind him when the truth was, she had been up half the night replaying the dinner and its aftermath in her head. Maybe it was her Hogwarts training, not the ones pertaining to lessons but more towards the D.A., that had taught her to always be the least bit wary but she had managed to not let it domineer her thoughts the next day. Yet she seemed to know how much it was plaguing Ron. Malfoy had, for the greater part of a year, wanted both of them along with Harry dead. Malfoy had tried to kill Dumbledore and had been a Death Eater… nineteen years ago. She, for one, was eager to put it behind her. She wasn't about to start inviting Draco and family over for tea but she saw no point in harboring resentments. But she wasn't about to pass rash judgment on Ron. She knew he wasn't keen on forgiving. "No, that's not what I meant… you know, you could have said some of this last night instead of letting me and Ginny do all the talking…."

"I'm sorry, 'Mione okay…. I just…"

"Aw, aren't you two a match made in Heaven?" a familiar voice sounded from the doorway. Both Ron and Hermione jumped.

"Hey, George," Ron sort of panted, as if trying to slow his heart rate down.

"Hey there brother, wife of brother," George laughed, walking over and conjuring a chair so that within seconds, he was sitting leisurely at the table. "Breakfast ready?"

"Working on it," Hermione chirped, motioning to the eggs that were now scrambling themselves.

"Too good to do it the old-fashioned way, then?" George teased. Hermione frowned at him.

"MUM! THE BROOM WON'T STOP!" Hugo howled from his bedroom. Hermione vanished so quickly, Ron wondered if she had apparated.

"So Ronniekins, how did your meeting with Malfoy go last night?"  
Ron concentrated on breathing for a moment, trying to cut off the excess anger that would no doubt pour out of his mouth if he didn't attempt to relax. "Well, he skirted around an apology for the longest time and then finally said something along the lines of 'I regret what happened during that war,'" Ron finished.

"I was sure he was going to give you loads of Galleons to shush you up. After all, it wouldn't be good for a Minister of Magic candidate to have walking, talking witnesses to his past life as a Death Eater," George explained.

Ron's jaw dropped. "What? How can he even think about running for Minister of Magic? Everyone, _everyone_, knows what he and his family have done!" Ron ranted.

"It's all in print, little brother," George said, whipping out a Daily Prophet from his back pocket and spreading it out on the table.

Ron looked at the words printed in big, bold print incredulously: DRACO MALFOY TO RUN FOR MINISTER OF MAGIC. He scanned the article below.

_Though a well-known figure in the Wizarding Community who has given money to towards research to St. Mungo's and volunteered time towards Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the Ministry of Magic, Draco Malfoy will encounter more than a few challenges on his campaign to become Minister. For one, it is common knowledge that parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, are convicted Death Eaters who are currently serving life sentences in Azkaban. There are also rumors that the youngest Malfoy himself was once a Death Eater. So are wizards and witches prepared to forgive and forget…..?_

"What?" Hermione screeched, scuttling over to the newspaper Ron was no longer reading. "Malfoy running for Minister?!" she demanded, reading the article quickly. "This is unbelievable."

George, who seemed pleased with himself for knowing something Hermione didn't, pocketed the newspaper as soon as Hermione was done.

"What's happening?" Hugo asked curiously. There was a bruise near his chin from where the broomstick handle had hit him.

"Nothing, Hugo," George answered, scooping his nephew into his arms and swinging him around wildly. Hugo screamed in laughter.

"So that's why he wanted to apologize. He wanted to make sure he had personally addressed the few people who could be witnesses to everything that had happened," Hermione whispered, leaning towards Ron so that he could hear amid Hugo's howling laughs.

"And you wanted to trust him," Ron scoffed.

"Well, just because he did it for another reason doesn't mean he's not changed…" Hermione said hopefully.

"So you wouldn't mind having Malfoy as Minister of Magic?"

Hermione seemed to consider it for a moment but then answered, indignantly, "Of course I would mind. I doubt he's going to win, anyway. Too many people don't trust him."

Ron knew Hermione well enough that she wasn't stating a fact, but more a hope. _Hopefully_ a large majority of people didn't trust him…. _hopefully _he wouldn't win. "You're probably right," Ron added unconvincingly.

"We'll drop in on Harry and Ginny later and see what they make of it," Hermione muttered thoughtfully.

"Right. Well, let's go get breakfast. I'll bet anything George and Hugo are hungry."

"So, George, how are Katie and Kate?" Hermione asked interestedly.

"They're good. Went shopping in Diagon Alley today. Katie's sister is getting married and the women of the house decided it would be beneficial if they had new dress robes.

"You didn't go?"

"Evidently not," George said, furrowing his brow in mock thought. "Curious. I was sure I would have gone. Ah well," he sighed, wandering over to the table and helping himself to the toast and egg Ron and Hermione had just set out.

"Where'd Hugo go off to?"

"MUM! I OPENED THE HALL CLOSET!" Hugo screamed and a moment later, his red hair struck by, followed closely by a broom.

"I told you to leave it closed until I had time to figure out what was wrong with it!" Hermione cried, freezing the broom in midair.

"You had frozen it before so I thought it would be okay to open it…" Hugo sighed, hanging his head sadly.

"Yes well I guess the charm wore off," Hermione observed.

George, who had been stifling his laughter, let out a stream of chuckles.

Hermione shot him an angry glare. "Did _you_ do this to Hugo's broom?!" she demanded.

"No," George choked out between laughs. "No, that isn't Hugo's broom. I'd recognize it anywhere. It was Fred's idea. That, Hermione, is one of our high quality assault brooms."

"_Assault brooms?!"_ Hermione demanded, sounding positively aghast.

"Yes. Obviously someone in this house bought one and Hugo stumbled upon it by mistake. Ron blushed crimson.

Hermione, who seemed to angry to form coherent sentences, simply sat down and began picking at her sausage. Hugo, on the other hand, looked positively thrilled to be privy to one of Uncle Fred's ideas.

"So that broom… it was Uncle Fred's idea?" Hugo asked reverently.

It was only momentary and subtle, at best, but a look of indescribable pain flickered across the normally jolly look in George's eyes. For a moment in time, there was no answer or words spoken. Hugo, in his innocence, seemed oblivious to it all.

"Yeah," George answered nonchalantly. "Your Uncle Fred had the best ideas."

This knowledge, for some reason, proved exciting to Hugo, who tucked into his eggs with a huge grin on his face.

George stood up abruptly, deserting a plate full of food. "Thanks for having me. I best be going. Have some business with Percy about some of the financing for the shop," George lied easily.

Ron and Hermione both watched him leave, a familiar sadness creeping into them.

"Look it, Mum and Dad! Look what I can do with my sausages!" Hugo cheered.

Both Hermione and Ron looked. Hugo had stuck sausages into his mouth to resemble that of a walrus. "I'm a walrun, like mum showed me in that book!" he prodded, unsure if his parents had gotten the joke. Ron almost spat his juice out laughing and Hermione, who was trying to reprimand Hugo for playing with his food smiled in spite of herself.

* * *

"Want to see another trick?"

George had in fact lied. He had not gone to address matters with Percy. In fact, business was the last thing on his mind when he apparated into the Diagon Alley branch of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. He had gone straight to the backroom and headed outside, to a tiny patch of grass. It wasn't where Fred was buried but it was there, George had decided unceremoniously, that he had buried Fred's wand. He couldn't think of a better place to lay to the rest the creator of amazing magic than the place in which aforementioned amazing magic was sold.

It was quiet. George had made sure to put plenty of silencing charms on the door so that he couldn't hear what was happening within the walls and no one could hear what was happening outside. George sat on a hard, stony bench that had been there when he and Fred had first bought the shop. Now, looking at the tiny mark that told where Fred's wand lay, he was overwhelmed with sadness. The feeling was one that had been coming and going for almost two decades now. It was a cruel punch to the stomach and more often than not, a restricted throat in which the only sound that could escape were cries of sorrow.

George stared at the ground fixedly, thinking about the tumultuous nineteen years that had past since he had lost his brother. They had brought simultaneously too much change and not enough. He was married now, to Katie, and had a daughter poised to go to Hogwarts in three years. Ron and Ginny were also married and already had children in Hogwarts. Bill's daughter seemed on the verge of starting a beautiful relationship with Teddy Lupin, both of whom Fred had never known. Charlie, who had opted out of family life, was still doing what he loved best and checked on his nieces and nephews religiously. And Fred had never seen that. He had never seen his friends and family grow to the parents and teachers it had always been hard to imagine they would become.

George smiled bitterly. If only Fred had seen how much _bigger_ their stores had gotten, bigger than either could have ever imagined, including a branch opening in France in the spring. If only Fred could have seen James, eager to emulate everything his Uncles Fred and George had done. And if only Fred could see the loyalty that the nieces and nephews who never knew him had for their uncle.

It wasn't fair. To put it simply, it just wasn't fair. George had never really reconciled with fate, who had so rudely stripped the world of quite possibly one of the happiest and most caring people ever to have lived. He didn't give a damn that fate had taken his ear or that fate had taken so long to have Harry finally vanquish Voldemort. It was as though fate had an insatiable taste for cruelty. George, for the past almost twenty years, had been living as though someone had taken half of his soul. There was something hollow about the name George without the name Fred preceding it.

Sometimes, his mind would play evil tricks on him. Once, when he looked into the mirror while getting ready for bed, he was almost convinced that his reflection was Fred and that instead of looking into a mirror, George was looking into a window. When he smiled, his brother smile back. And then reality set in like a blow to the head.

He was happy though. He had a wife and children and such a splendid life that he knew he ought not to complain. Still, as if permanently stationed there, a voice in his head was constantly reminding him of how much more splendid his life would have been with Fred there. It seemed as though George lived in a constant state of sadness and guilt, for he knew he should be adapting now, with the passing of nineteen years. George, who was now trembling slightly, kept his eyes on the spot.

He had never been mad at George for "leaving him" for he had never viewed it as that. Like Lupin and Tonks and so many others, Fred had died doing something honourable, something incredible. George could not have been prouder of his brother. But still, he wished Fred could have fought and lived.

George had thought all of these thoughts before and he had experienced every emotion connected to a death there is to experience. And yet George kept returning to the spot with an almost masochistic fervor, for reasons he didn't even understand himself and kept feeling the same emotions rise inside him, like a turbulent storm. Slowly, he rose.

"See ya, Fred," he muttered, his voice sounding strange after sitting in silence for almost half an hour. No answer came and George hadn't expected it to. Slowly, he shuffled towards the door. As it opened, an owl came hurtling over his shoulder and into the shop. George looked at it oddly. It stood up from where it had fallen on the ground and, as though it had known George his whole life, jumped onto his shoulders, hooting all the while.

* * *

"Come on, let's go sit outside. It's a pretty day," Rose pleaded to Dalton and Al, who were finishing up their Sunday morning breakfast.

Dalton seemed agreeable to the idea but Al was still thinking about the request James had put into Victoire. What _had_ Professor Longbottom been doing in that office? The need to know was burning in the pit of his stomach and remained forefront in his mind.

"I'll meet you out by the door. I just gotta ask James sometime," Al offered, jumping up and chasing after his brother, who was now leaving with a few of his friends. "James, can I talk to you?"

James whirled around, slightly confused. "What?"

"Hey, I was thinking…. about what you said about Professor Longbottom…"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I was thinking we should go talk to him ourselves…" Al continued, his confidence faltering under the scrutinizing glare he was receiving from James.

Al turned around and began to slink away, knowing full well the answer he was about to receive from his brother.

"Alright."

Al blinked a few times in slight bewilderment.

"Yeah, if Victoire won't do it, I guess we've got to do it ourselves," James elaborated, drawing himself up proudly. "Come on."

"Are we going now?"

"Of course we're going now dungbrain," James sighed, exasperated.

Al turned around and began to follow his brother as they found their way out of the Great Hall and nearly broke into a sprint on the way to the greenhouses, where Neville could be found every Sunday, planning out his lessons. Al reached the door first and knocked politely. A few moments later, Neville opened the door, his face smudged with dirt and a wriggling green plant in his hand. "Oh, it's you two! Come in," he ushered them in, placing the plant in a vat of some murky liquid and wiped his hands clean. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"What? Are we not allowed to visit our favorite Herbology professor?" James asked innocently, staring up at Neville with his big, brown eyes. "Oh and mum sends her love," he added with a tiny bit of a shudder as he hopped onto a stool and began to spin around.

"Tell your mum I said hi," Neville smiled.

"Professor Longbottom…. we have a question…" Al began.

James shot him a Don't-You-Dare-Mess-Up-My-Plan look. Al quickly looked around for a change of topic.

"Yeah? And how have you two been doing at Hogwarts? Up to any trouble making yet?" he asked, his eyes glinting playfully.

"We tried… caught by Professor Finnigan," James shrugged. "But we did come across something interesting on our wanderings through the castle and after discussing it with Al here, we decided it would be best to…." he looked at Al for an explanation.

"We decided it would be best to come and talk to you about it. After all, you know all about Hogwarts and stuff since you were probably with my dad when he did a lot of his exploring and…." Al glanced at James.

"And while glancing at the Marauder's Map two nights ago, we saw your name in Professor McGonagall's office," James spun around quickly on the swiveling stool.

Neville turned a delicate pink.

"And we, curious children we are, were wondering why exactly you were there?" Al finished, sounding a lot more like James than he had intended to.

"Hogwarts business. Had to talk about classes and things like that," Neville lied easily. After being in the D.A. for so long, lying had become second nature.

"Nothing for you two to worry about. If it were important, I think your dad would have told you," Neville reasoned with them.

Al looked at James long enough to pick up on his brother's thoughts: they weren't going to get answers out of Neville. At least not today. Al made a mental note to ask Hagrid if he knew anything when he went to tea with him on Friday.

"So you been keeping in touch with Luna?" James asked teasingly.

Neville sighed. He still hadn't fully adjusted to the fact that he was teaching Potter children and that they would in fact know a lot more of his personal life than the average student.

"Yes, I have."

James simply nodded.

"Do you need help with any of this, Nev… er, Professor Longbottom?" Al offered generously, motioning to all the plants and things of the ilk.

"No, thanks Al. But no, I'm almost done. Going to teach my fifth years about the thing in the vat," he said proudly.

Al grinned up at him.

"Now you two scurry on now, your friends will be wandering where you've gone," Neville said after a moment, turning his attention back to the plant. Al and James bade him goodbye and began the journey back to the castle.

"Do you reckon he was lying?" Al asked his brother.

"Of course," James replied matter-of-factly. "But he'll come around."

Al decided to trust his brother for the moment, and instead of asking his brother about the next installment of the plan, resigned himself to talking about Quidditch and their parents.

* * *

_So what did you all think? I'd love to know D So take a few seconds out of your day to review but if you honestly can't, then thanks for reading and I'll update soon! I already have chapter 6 planned out, I just have to write it. So until Chapter 6..._

_xoxo_

_yours truly_


	6. Curiouser and Curiouser

_A/N- Okay, so I thank all my reviewers on odd numbered chapters [and I'll make sure to thank you all personally then but for now, I'll thank you as a collective whole. Your reviews make me so unbelievably happy. When I have writer's block, they keep me going. Thank you all so, so much. You're all amazing. And now... the much anticipated... chapter 6._

* * *

Monday morning came around sooner than anyone would have liked. Al, who had been unable to fall asleep before midnight due to thoughts of Neville and the office, was reluctant to wake up. The persistent rays from the sun badgered his eyelids until he eventually stirred only to find the rest of the boys already up and gone. Hit by a rush of adrenaline, Al dove into his trunk and changed at a record pace. It wasn't until he was groping wildly for his wand did he hear a laugh from behind the drawn curtains of Dalton's bed. Furrowing his brow, he marched over to the bed and yanked the curtains back to see Dalton doubled over in laughter. 

"I have never seen anyone move that fast," he admitted, slowly regaining composure.

"Yeah, well," Al began, crossing his arms. "I didn't want to be late," he finished huffily.

"You won't be. We might not have as much time to eat breakfast but you'll be okay," Dalton assured him, springing out of the bed and drawing his own wand from his pocket.

"I told you, don't put your wand there," Al reprimanded as they made their way down to the common room.

"Al, have you ever known anyone who had gotten their buttocks blown off?" Dalton raised his eyebrows curiously.

"No, but my dad told me not to," Al remained firm in his belief. It seemed that this was enough for Dalton as he didn't return his wand to his back pocket. "So we have potions today, huh?" Al moped, walking rapidly down the stairs.

"Yeah," Dalton scrunched his face up. "I don't know about Professor Milhelm. I've heard a lot about him but…"

"Well, let's give him a chance. You know, my dad hated his potions professor and he ended up saving my dad's life," Al confided.

Dalton, who had heard that myth before, widened his eyes, having received confirmation of this rumor from a reliable source. "Well, maybe Professor Milhelm'll be a good guy," Dalton finally said grudgingly.

"That's the spirit," Al smiled as they entered the Great Hall and sat down next to Rose and James.

"You know, next time you go, you should take me. I have as much right to be down there as you lot," Rose was arguing grumpily when they sat down. Al assumed James had just told her about their visit to the Greenhouses.

"Yeah but you got to bond with Nat and Abby," James offered, grinning charmingly.

"James Potter, we're related. That stupid grin won't work on me," Rose huffed. It looked as though she were considering what James had said. "Yeah, they were pretty nice," she finally muttered.

"Wait, you were talking to Nat and Abby?" Al inquired, biting into a muffin.

"Yeah. They were looking for James while _you two_ were out," she shot, "and they couldn't find Daemian either so we just talked and went back to the Common Room. I found out some interesting things," she nodded, giving James a knowing look.

"What sort of interesting things?" James demanded, looking suddenly intense.

"Oh, things you don't know about. But you don't worry your charming little head about it," Rose said sarcastically. Then she let out a giggle.

James looked deeply disconcerted. "What sort of things, Rose?" James pressed, sounding more and more vulnerable. Al shook his head. It was hilarious how much of a troublemaker people at Hogwarts thought his brother to be. At home, James was often the one pranked, thanks to the geniuses that were Lily and Hugo. He really did love his brother, but he couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

"Oi, Potter! Are you going to come sit with us or not?" Daemian called from the end of the table.

"Here, we'll talk about it later," Rose promised and James ran off, running his hand through his hair and acting as though he hadn't almost broken down into tears.

Dalton, who had been silent the entire time, looked utterly perplexed.

Al considered the situation for a moment before deciding to tell Dalton what had happened. If he had learned anything from his parents it was that secrets should not be kept from friends. "A couple of nights ago, James was looking on the Marauder's Map…" Dalton gasped. "And he saw Professor Longbottom in McGonagall's office all night. So we went to go ask him why but he wouldn't answer us. Said if it was anything important, our dad would have told us and then we left," James explained. Rose, who had already heard the story, was picking apart a banana thoughtfully.

"I can't think of why he wouldn't have told you. I'm sure he would have if it were important," Rose concluded, placing the banana peel on the table and standing up. "We'll talk about it on the way to Potions. If we don't get going, we're going to be late."

"Don't want to give Professor Milhelm a reason to hate us," Dalton added and all three hustled out of the Hall.

"Oh, Professor Milhelm isn't going to hate you," Rose countered. "You two are both so paranoid. No one's going to hate anyone and Neville isn't hiding some grand secret."

Both Al and Dalton exchanged dubious looks. When they had finally arrived at the dungeons, Al, Dalton and Rose sat at one table, waiting for Professor Milhelm to appear.

"I'm actually excited about starting Potions…. I mean, I know it's going to be hard but I think it's going to be fun as well as useful…" Rose said as she pulled out a quill and parchment, a preemptive move.

"You know, you couldn't sound more like Aunt Hermione if you tried," Al observed in an amused tone.

A sudden silence washed over the classroom and Al instantly shut his mouth. Professor Milhelm made his way quietly to the front of the class and without any introduction, pointed his wand at the board where words began to write themselves. Rose began scribbling them down like mad, one of the very few in the class to do so. Al shifted in his seat awkwardly, unsure of what to do with himself.

Without any sort of warning, Milhelm began calling out names. The first student, _Alhorn, Susette_, seemed quite startled by the sound of her name, which was now echoing off the cavernous walls, that instead of saying here, she dropped her quill. "I suppose that's as good a sign as any that you are present," Milhelm uttered disgustedly, making a mark on his parchment. Al listened attentively, so to not miss his name and make a bad first impression on Milhelm. The professor rattled on a list of forgettable names before coming to one that sounded familiar… "_Malfoy, Scorpius_."

"Here, Professor." Al craned his neck, looking around for the boy who had spoken. He wasn't hard to find. Two tables to his left sat Scorpius Malfoy, blonde hair gleaming in the dim light and his features wearing an unmistakably haughty smirk. Al was so intent on looking at the boy that he had realized his fear of forgetting to answer to his name. "I don't care if your father saved the entire Wizarding World, this will be the last time I call your name Potter," Milhelm whispered.

"Present," Al muttered, entirely mortified. Dalton gave him a sympathetic smile. Al couldn't bring himself to smile back.

"Don't worry, Al, it was just a one time thing, it doesn't mean he hates you," Rose whispered so softly that Al had to strain his hearing to pick it up. Al nodded but didn't believe her. Well, if he had already gotten in trouble, there was no use crying over spilled butterbeer. Instead, he made a mental note to speak with Rose and James about the Malfoy boy, see if he was as much trouble as his dad had been.

* * *

Victoire Weasley was using her free period to write a letter to Teddy. She knew it was perhaps not a scholastically savvy move, but she figured she could do her Charms essay later that night. _Dear Teddy_, she began, frowning at the way it sounded. She hadn't written to Teddy all summer and now it felt uncomfortable to do so. After all, Teddy had spent the majority of his life over the summer at Harry's house and Victoire had been able to apparate there whenever she wished. Now she was going to have to write to him without the luxury of seeing him in person. 

_How have you been? I hope you're having a great time training to be an Auror. I know that's what you always wanted to do…_ The quill paused. Victoire was examining the letter uneasily. She was proud of Teddy for becoming an Auror, he had worked extremely hard to become one, but she still worried. Being an Auror was so dangerous, even now when there was no war to be fought. It made her a tad bit uneasy, not knowing if he was safe or in danger. But it was his choice and she wasn't going to stand in his way. After all, she was pretty sure she loved him…. Love was a strong word, she knew it. But she also knew that it was the only word to encompass what she felt. They just fit together, sort of like all her uncles and aunts and even her grandparents. There was a comfort she got just by thinking about him, one that she hadn't experienced before. Being part-Veela, Victoire had never had problems getting boyfriends. Up until her sixth year, she went through about five a year and yet she had grown bored with every single one of them. That wasn't the case with Teddy… she could never see herself running out of things to say to him… well, most of the time anyway. Sometimes, he just left her at a loss for words. There were things about him that she just didn't… couldn't… understand. Those were the things she knew he confided in Harry. There had been so much pain he had gone through growing up without either of his parents, who had died in the same war her Uncle Fred had died in. Victoire nodded her pale blonde head, pushing the thoughts from her mind. She didn't need to bring that up in her letter to Teddy.

_Things at Hogwarts have been like they always are. Raegan Jordon made head girl…. you remember her, Lee Jordan's daughter? She's fun to be around though and she's doing a good job. Head boy went to some bloke from Ravenclaw… but I don't know his name. You know how terrible I am with names. The Quidditch team is going to suffer this year without you as their amazing keeper but we'll get by. We have tryouts for my co-Chasers sometime next week. James is already making trouble, he was caught by Seamus while he was wandering around with the Map and the Cloak. He seems to think that there's some sort of conspiracy going on between McGonagall and Neville but I'm not too sure. He harassed Neville about it today… I wish I could have been there just because I can't imagine how funny it must have been. You know how charming James fancies himself. I think he might have a point, ridiculous child he is, and I may go speak to Neville myself. Anyway, Al and Rose are doing quite well here, Rose is going to be just like Aunt Hermione and Al…. well, Al reminds me a lot of Uncle Harry. _

_You know what I found out? Do you remember Darielle Cadogan? She keeps a picture of Uncle Harry under her pillow… terrifying, non? But all in all, I think it'll be a quiet year… _she hesitated for a moment. _I miss you. It's going to be strange not having you around this year but we'll keep in touch through letters. Are you planning on celebrating Christmas with us again this year? I hope so but if not, I might stop by to visit. _Victoire thought about anything else she might have to say. She had recounted her stories about James, Al, Darielle and Quidditch. She had told him how much she would miss him and that she hoped to see him soon. She couldn't think of much else to say. Feeling slightly guilty about ending the letter so quickly, she signed it and sealed it, making her way to the Owlery to send it on its way.

She made her way out of the Common Room and ran into a familiar face. "Al, what's wrong?" she asked, seeing a very disheartened Albus Potter making his way to the Common Room.

"He had a bad Potions lesson," Rose explained carefully.

Victoire wrinkled her delicate nose. "Milhelm," she said with great dislike.

"Who you writing to?" Rose asked conversationally, pointing to the letter Victoire had forgotten to address.

"Teddy," Victoire answered after a moment, turning a pale pink. Rose giggled but didn't press the subject.

"Well, me, Al and Dalton are going to get our books together for our next class. See you at dinner!" she cried cheerfully and the trio scampered off behind the portrait hole.

Victoire pulled a quill out of her bag and holding the envelope up to one of the stone walls, wrote the name in flowery letters- _Teddy Lupin_. She felt her heart skip a beat. 'You only wrote his name. It's not like you kissed him or anything,' she mentally reprimanded herself. However, thoughts of him seeing her off at King's Cross flooded her mind and she wandered to the Owlery with a dazed expression on her face.

* * *

"I hate Mondays," Ron complained, filing away a sheet of paper. "Even when they're almost over." 

Harry laughed. "So do I but it's all worth it," he said, stretching himself out in the chair. After long years of devotion to the new, revolutionized Ministry, Harry had risen to the head of the Auror department. Ron had the adjacent office and Ginny was down the Hall. Hermione had opted to go into the Department of Magical Law Enforcements and the only time she swung by was either before or after lunch, when the memos hadn't yet reached her office.

"I agree with you on that one, mate. Aurors," he said impressively, as though that hadn't been their job title for almost twenty years.

Just as Harry had opened his mouth to speak, a paper airplane memo zoomed into his office, hitting a dartboard Harry had hung up for that sole purpose. He examined how close it had come to hitting the center before pulling it out, scanning it quickly. "Come with me," he announced firmly. Ron knew better than to ask questions right away.

They were on the lift before Harry bothered to explain anything. "Hermione wants to talk with us about Minister of Magic candidates."

"I don't see why we have to have elections. Shacklebolt's doing a fine job if you ask me," Ron retorted grumpily. "You think it's a good idea to have this discussion in the Ministry of Magic?" Ron asked curiously as they stepped out of the lift.

"Hermione's smart. If she wants to tell us here, I'm sure she has good reason," Harry said loyally though he was having the same doubts. Hermione's office wasn't hard to find. The books were practically falling into the hallway.

"You summoned us?" Ron asked dramatically, walking into the office. Hermione smiled warmly at the two of them.

"Yes. Look," she asked, flashing an old Daily Prophet at them.

"We know Malfoy's running for Minister. Isn't there other things you need to be worried about as Head and all?" Harry asked politely.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just researched it and all candidates for Minister are supposed to be announced at the same time. Do you think that this article about Malfoy just happened to show up in the paper without him having a hand in it?"

"Why is it such a big…."

"We don't even _know_ who the other candidates are yet, Ron! It's a one man race. Furthermore, it's an _illegality_ that we can't overlook."

"So you're kicking him out of the race?" Ron asked hopefully.

"We can't," Hermione explained patiently.

"So basically, Malfoy's trying to get a leg-up on the competition but he's always done anything to win… why'd you have to tell us here?" Harry questioned.

"Because of _this_." _This_ seemed to be the sole reason for Hermione having called them in there. It was a length piece of parchment with print from beginning to end. "It's bewitched so that it can't leave the Ministry, my office to be exact. It's all of the things Malfoy's sworn to reform. Apparently, it was supposed to be printed alongside this article but the Prophet cut it. If he wins, everything he'll do is a regression of the Ministry. He wants to implement Half-Breed Tagging so that we know where they are and what they're doing the whole time. He's saying Fenrir attacked him and that another werewolf who shall remain unnamed participated in the battle for Hogwarts alongside Greyback!" Hermione was doing her best not to screech.

"No one's going to buy that. Lupin went down in History books," Ron said defensively.

"Yes I know but Malfoy's still lying, trying to scare people into supporting him So basically, he's the only one running now, the only one the public knows about, he's got a correspondent for the Prophet and if he wins because of all this publicity he's getting…" All three of them cringed.

"But the only part that's illegal is the fact he made it known he was in the race before he was supposed to."

"Yes but we can't catch him for it because he claimed he had no prior knowledge," Hermione huffed.

"Do you think that all this extra publicity will help him any?" Ron asked gently.

Hermione was on the edge of losing her mind, or so it seemed, as she pulled out a bag. "All sympathy letters for Malfoy, praising him for his reform."

"How'd you get a hold of 'em?" Ron asked, gawking at the bag.

"I used logic to get them in my possession."

"Well, do you think he's reformed?" Harry asked tentatively, feeling the anger swirl up inside him again.

"I'm not sure. But if that wasn't enough, look…." Hermione trailed off, drawing one letter out. "Recol Sundsrick. Sounds like a suspicious character and he's expressed an interest in running. Says he has a job in the Ministry and is high up in command."

"But there are no Recol Sundsricks working in the Ministry, are there?"

Hermione shook her head. She lowered her voice. "The main reason we're not pursuing Malfoy is because… well…. because he's about to be put under Auror protection. Sundsricks says that Malfoy doesn't have what it takes to implement everything he says he will. He's not _officially_ in the race, seeing as how we don't know his true identity but…. he says if we don't chase Malfoy for in a round a bout way, illegally, announcing his intention to run, we'd be hypocrites and he'd see to it that… that anyone who had a hand in it would vanish along with Malfoy himself."

"Why can't the Wizarding World be at peace for two seconds?" Ron cried, shaking his head.

Harry rubbed his eyes wearily. "Well, I can promise you one thing. I'm almost a hundred percent sure that, while this may take some work, he can't be as bad as Voldemort."

* * *

_All job details were pulled from an interview with JK Rowling, for the record. I know I went into Malfoy alot only to change it but I promise I did it for a reason. And I will tie up all plots at the end... I promise. You'll see. So my dearies, thank you for reading and now, if you would be so kind, review but if not, I understand how demanding life can be. So thank you for sticking with me this far! I'll update before the end of the weekend._

_xoxo_

_yours truly_


	7. Mysteries at Hogwarts &Thoughts at Home

_A/N- This chapter took longer to write than I had expected but here it is! I'd like to thank kate, meganwolff, forbiddenxlove, AirGirl Phantom [I've lost the link to the interview, I'm sorry!, Mtbanger, nanite1018, aldoraspritelette, Amy, kathryn [to answer your question: No, Harry will not be running for Minister of Magic but there there are still a few other people who will throw their hats into the ring and Pam Briggs... your reviews were all amazing! They really do keep me going sometimes... and now... I present... Chapter 7!_

_See Chapter 2 for Disclaimer_

* * *

James Potter normally didn't look forward to Herbology but this particular Tuesday morning was an exception. He was practically dragging Abby towards the greenhouses, his face alight with excitement. Nat and Daemian, who had gone back to fetch Nat's textbook, had promised to meet him at the Greenhouses as fast as their legs would allow them to. 

"Alright, what is it that you know and I don't?" Abby asked irritably as James, who had been dragging her by her sleeve, led her into a particularly muddy hole.

"Nothing," James answered, obviously flustered.

Abby stopped dead in her tracks, glaring angrily at James. "James Potter, there is mud on my shoes and you are all but _sprinting_ to a class you only tolerate because you know the Professor. You must have an ulterior motive."

James feigned a look of shock but continued walking at his brief pace. "Alright," he began, lowering his voice so that Abby had to catch up simply to hear him. "Listen, I need to talk to Neville about something and I'm hoping that if I can get there before the rest of the class does, I can talk to him then instead of having to wait 'till after class when chances are, he and I will both be covered in dirt."

Abby looked mildly shocked. "You really have got this planned out, haven't you?" she asked, looking him over appraisingly.

"I don't always do things spur of the moment," he whined defensively. Abby tossed him a disbelieving look.

They reached the greenhouses and to their great dismay, saw a sign proclaiming the rescheduling of that particular class to Saturday morning.

"Do you think he's ill?" Abby asked worriedly7.

"No I don't think he's ill," James grunted, slightly mad about having to attend class on the weekend. He grabbed Abby's hand and pulled her behind the greenhouse, producing the Marauder's Map from the depth of his bag. "Look!" he whispered excitedly.

"What?" Abby demanded but soon, realization dawned on her face. "He's wandering the corridors…"

"That's right and I'm going to figure out why," James said determinedly, closing the map and tucking it away.

"But you can't… you'll get in trouble," she implored but James had already made him his mind and having inherited incredible stubbornness from both his mother and his father, there was no way Abby was going to make him change his mind.

"Listen, we'll go back up to the dormitory, you tell Daemian and Nat where I've gone…. I'll get Al…"

"Al has classes," Abby pointed out.

"Well then I'll go alone."

"Wait…. how many people know about your theory?"

James scowled. "It's not _my_ theory. Other people happen to think it, too. But it's me, you, Nat, Daemian, Al, Rose, Dalton and Victoire."

"Impressive list there, Potter," Abby chuckled.

"Now, what did you tell Rose while I was out?" he asked, suddenly remembering. To his great agitation, Abby simply giggled and scampered up the hill. He chased her and continued plaguing her all the way home but to his great dismay, realized she may have been as stubborn as he was.

"What's this then?" Daemian asked upon running into his two friends at the Entrance Hall.

"Abby'll explain, I got to go," James said hurriedly, running up to the Gryffindor Tower. Once he had procured the Cloak from Al's room (which Al had left in the most obvious place: under his bed), he was following the careful instructions from the map to lead him to McGonagall's Office where he assumed Neville was going as well. He was careful not to make any noise seeing as how since only one class had gotten cancelled, it would be obvious to hear a student roaming the halls. James peered into a Transfiguration class, sniggering at the sixth year's failed attempts to transform animals into a tea cup or something like that… no one had succeeded yet so James wasn't sure what it was supposed to be. This brief distraction from the map caused him much grief when he examined the Map once more. Neville was no longer floors away but rather a corner turn away. He broke into a quiet a sprint as he could to catch up. Finally, he spotted Neville down the hall.

He walked a few feet behind Neville, who seemed to be walking at a normal pace. 'He probably doesn't want to draw attention to himself,' James thought logically. Finally, after they had been to what James assumed was probably ever corridor in the castle, Neville began walking up passages James only recognized from the stories his father told him. Slowing down considerably to avoid detection, he crept up the stone gargoyle just like Neville had and soon found himself in a splendidly decorated office. On the walls were mumbling portraits of who James could only assume to be previous Headmasters seeing as there was one that looked precisely like a photo his dad had shown him of Albus Dumbledore.

"Neville," McGonagall's voice came out of nowhere.

There was a pregnant pause and James looked around wildly to ensure he was not visible. But McGonagall seemed to be standing still and silent for some odd reason… suddenly, he felt like water was flowing upward on his body. The Cloak.

"James Sirius Potter!" McGonagall screeched, running to the boy and grabbing his hand.

James wasn't sure how it had happened. He had heard his parents tell him stories about spells that could reveal a human presence… but he hadn't assumed McGonagall would do it for a simple meeting with… it dawned on James. It wasn't a simple meeting. They _were _hiding something.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" McGonagall demanded in such a high pitch, James wouldn't be surprised if dogs were howling in pain.

"I…. just…. wanted to know what the Headmistress's Office looked like. You've done such great things with the place. I'll write mum with decorating ideas…" James babbled, wandering out of McGonagall's grasp and attempting to dash out of the room as quickly as possible.

"You've inherited your father's cheek, Potter. Detention for sneaking into my office. You will of course serve this punishment for Professor Longbottom whom you no doubt stalked to find your way here."

James had just been about to say he had used the map when he realized how bad of an idea that would be. Hanging his head in shame, he began wandering down the stairs.

"And I don't want you interfering!" came the final reprimand from McGonagall.

"It worked for my entire family," James muttered almost silently before walking back, and dejectedly so, all the way to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

"Aunt Ginny, you look positively resplendent!" A sonorous voice rang out from the sitting room. 

Ginny, who had only minutes before arrived from work, followed the sound of the familiar voice. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of a visit, Teddy? Not that we mind seeing you more often…. but we had pretty much grown accustomed to seeing you here six times a week rather than seven…" she teased before pulling him into a tight hug. After nineteen years, Ginny was, in essence, his adopted mother while Harry his adopted dad.

"Am I not allowed to visit family?" Teddy asked, looking deeply offended.

Ginny sighed in a resigned fashion. Teddy, blood relative or not, was as much family as her own children. "Will you be joining us for dinner?"

"It depends. Are you cooking?" Teddy countered charmingly.

"If I said yes, would you stay?"

"No," he answered honestly.

"Then yes," she grinned. "No… I think it's Harry's turn to make dinner."

"Why then yes, I do believe I'd love to stay for dinner," Teddy smiled. Ginny looked down at his hand, only now noticing the piece of parchment clutched tightly in his fist.

"What have you got there…?" she asked in a matronly voice, reaching out to wheedle the letter from his grasp.

Teddy tucked it away hastily. "Oh, just a letter from Victoire."

Ginny gave him an incredibly knowing look and sat on one of the chairs.

"Oh, Aunt Ginny, grow up," Teddy joked. Suddenly, his demeanor became serious and his eyes portrayed a vulnerability Ginny had encountered many times while raising Teddy. "How long did you like Uncle Harry?"

Ginny blushed crimson. After all these years, she still wasn't able to talk about it like a mature woman. "I liked him…. before I met him. He was a sort of celebrity in my day." Teddy snickered (it was common knowledge that Harry was still and would probably forever be one of the Wizarding World's most prominent figures). "Ron became friends with him his first year… that was a fiasco. Then he saved me my fiirst year and I realized that I would probably like the boy until the day I died but… gradually…especially after my third year…. I moved on. I still loved him but I had given up. He fancied Cho… that girl who plays for the Tornadoes… but it didn't work out between them. I got my hopes up but I was dating another boy at the time… then Harry up and decides he fancies me in my fifth year and I was thrilled," Ginny paused as if trying to remember the rest of the story. "Then he broke up with me before I started by sixth year because he wanted to protect me… but I wasn't going to have any of it. I didn't date a boy my entire sixth year because I was waiting for him to come back, which he did and he said he loved me as much as ever which was how I felt about him…." she suddenly realized she had never really answered the question. "My entire life, to answer your question."

The story seemed to have held Teddy's attention though Ginny was sure he had heard it countless times before. "Why?"

Teddy's hair turned a light orange. "Well…. I was just wondering…"

"James told us about your relationship with Victoire," Ginny interrupted untactifully.

"Well, that makes this loads easier," Teddy sighed truthfully. "Aunt Ginny, I think I love her."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you did, the way you two are together."

This didn't seem to be the answer he had been expecting. "Well…." Teddy ran his hands through his hair, which was now returning to a normal state.

Ginny watched him blunder through explanations and reasoning, marveling at how much he reminded her of Remus and Tonks. Ginny would have never thought it possible, for someone to remind her of two such drastically different people, but somehow, Teddy managed to. She was sure that the story of Teddy's parents was much more enthralling than her own with Harry…. but she knew that Teddy didn't often talk about his parents. If he did, it was only to Harry. Suddenly, her heart began aching, not only for Teddy, but for Remus and Tonks. Her mind seemed to have entered a flashback mode and her thoughts kept bouncing between the present and the summer before her fourth year, at Grimmauld Place. She missed them. She oftentimes did and it was a feeling she had resigned herself to feeling for the rest of her life. It was something that came along with love… the feeling of _missing_ someone. She shook her head, chasing all the thoughts away. She needed to listen to Teddy before he did something ridiculously stupid to mess up his relationship with her niece.

"_Do not_ send her an Assault Broom!" Ginny yelled, nearly toppling out of her chair.

"But Uncle George gave me one and I thought it was hilarious…"

"Yes but you aren't _dating_ Uncle George," Ginny pointed out, still shocked at Teddy's outlandish suggestion.

"Who's dating Uncle George?" cut in Harry's voice. "Teddy!" he greeted his godson, giving him a fatherly hug. "So you're dating Uncle George?"

"No," Teddy sighed. "I'm dating Victoire."

"Look, Ginny, a confession. Now we know he wasn't in it for a quick snog," he pointed out to Ginny, turning around to his wife, obviously thrilled with the news.

Teddy, who wore the pained expression of Teenager-With-Incredibly-Annoying-Godparents, sighed and buried his head in his hands, waiting for them to finish their comedy act. "Honestly, Ted, what's happening?" he asked.

"Nothing. I just wanted to come visit… Aunt Ginny told me you were cooking dinner so I thought it'd be safe to stay."

Harry laughed and a soft thud resonated from somewhere near Lily's bedroom. "I'm okay," a muffled voice called out. Ginny sighed. Lily, while wickedly talented on a broomstick, seemed to roll out of her bed more often than not.

"I'll go check on her," Ginny volunteered, leaving Harry and Teddy behind.

"So what's the real reason you came over?" inquired Harry, who was settling into a comfortable armchair and taking off his shoes.

"No real reason… just felt like visiting," mumbled Teddy almost incoherently.

Harry laid back in the chair, waiting for Teddy to come around. "Let me guess… Victoire?"

"How'd you know?" Teddy answered, suddenly much more comfortable.

"It was a safe guess," Harry shrugged.

"I think I really… I love her, Harry," Teddy gulped.

"Well…. I don't know Victoire on a level to which she would tell me about her love life but I think it's safe to say that she feels the same way about you."

"I just can't do it. What if something happens to me? What if…?"

He didn't have to finish the question. Harry knew exactly what he meant. They were the same thoughts he had wrestled with a little more than nineteen years ago. It was almost an eerie parallel. Harry could hear his eighteen-year-old self asking '_What if I die… what would happen to Ginny and my family then? I can't leave them the way… I can't have them growing up without a father. I won't let them live that kind of life…_' Harry was surprised at the accuracy of his memory. Harry locked eyes with his godson. In Teddy's eyes flashed almost the hundred emotions that were rolling around tumultuously in his head.

"Love isn't painless and life isn't fair," Harry pointed out unnecessarily. "That's something you have to know. But life isn't cruel… there's always hope and good in the world. If you love her… if you _really_ do…. then act on it. You can't live your life in fear… eventually, you'll have to understand that if Victoire understands the risks and still wants to be with you… you should go ahead and stay with her."

"I don't want my kids to grow up without a dad," Teddy spoke through gritted teeth.

Harry's mouth seemed to have gone dry.

"I miss them," Teddy whispered, looking up at Harry. Harry moved to sit next to him and ruffled his hair. "How did you… do you ever…"

Harry just nodded and sat down next to Teddy as the two sat in a comfortable, grief-filled silence for so long, Harry had lost track of the time.

"I'm okay," Teddy spoke suddenly. "Come on, Aunt Ginny's probably getting hungry," he smiled.

"True. And there's something I need to tell her…. you can hear I suppose. About the Minister of Magic elections…"

* * *

It was Thursday night and Al was attempting to finish a Charms essay in the Common Room. James came in and sat across from him. Rose and Dalton, who had been over by the fire, quickly scurried to hear what James was about to divulge. 

"Now listen, Hagrid knows almost everything that goes on in this school. I wouldn't put it past him to know why Neville's going up to McGonagall's office," James began in a hushed tone.

"Well, you can ask him, you're coming too, aren't you?" asked Al, a bit disgruntled now that his focus had been broke.

"I'm going on Saturday. Seven people in his hut makes for a crowded environment and Daemian, Nat and Abby have taken a liking to Hagrid, too. We go visit him at least once a week," James explained.

"Then ask him on Saturday, James, I need to finish this essay by tomorrow…"

"Because it's not like you had a week to do it," Rose pointed out sarcastically. Al frowned.

"Al, it's not just a guess I have anymore. I got detention with Neville for it but I followed him to McGonagall's office with the Cloak…" (Al looked a bit confused as he was under the impression the Cloak was in his trunk) "And before she said anything, she was just standing there. I asked Victoire about it and she said McGonagall was probably performing nonverbal spells so I wouldn't have time to run and hide anywhere… so she caught me… but the point is, why would she be casting all these precautionary spells if it wasn't for something important?"

Al struggled for some sort of answer but he knew his brother was right. Al gave his brother his word that he would try to get information out of Hagrid and wrote down nonsense to complete his essay before going to bed.

It was finally Friday morning. Al had been looking forward to Friday all week. When it had finally arrived, he couldn't have been in a better mood. Not only did Friday signal a two-day break from classes that were turning out to be more rigorous than he had bargain for but Friday also brought about tea with Hagrid. Even though he now had a specific goal in mind, hanging around Hagrid was always incredibly enjoyable and he couldn't wait to introduce Dalton to him.

The day went by with a more relaxed feel than had the rest of the week. Finally, after their last class, they put on their cloaks and traipsed down the field towards Hagrid's hut.

"Are you sure I should be here? I wasn't exactly _invited_…" Dalton worried, wringing his hands together nervously.

"So? Hagrid's a really nice person. He isn't going to kick you out," Rose assured him as they neared closer. Dalton, who didn't look assured in the least bit, slowed down noticeably.

"Maybe you two should go ahead…. I don't want to impose…"

"Oh, stop whining, you're not imposing. How else are you going to meet Hagrid if you don't come?" Al asked and Dalton ran to catch up with him.

"There yeh are! I've been waitin' for yeh to come!" Hagrid greeted enthusiastically as Rose knocked on the door. "Who are yeh?" he asked, looking directly at Dalton.

"Dalton Wood," he answered, beaming up at Hagrid. "And you're Hagrid! Al and Rose won't stop talking about you," he explained.

"Oh, those two. Take after their parents, they do. Always wanderin' the castle… sometimes gettin' caught… that was Harry, Ron and Hermione fer yeh," Hagrid sighed nostalgically.

"Hagrid, could we come in?" Al asked, noticing that they were still standing in the doorway.

"Yeah, come on in, you three… I've only got two cups of tea but I'll pull one more fer Dalton here…" Hagrid pulled a tea cup and filled it, placing it next to the other two. "Sorry I didn't have it ready…. didn't expect yeh but glad yeh came!" Hagrid continued, still obviously happy, pulling up a chair. "So how are yeh lot doin' at Hogwarts?"

"Pretty good. Everything is so incredible here!" Rose gushed, sipping her tea tentatively.

"The classes are wicked hard, though," Al and Dalton spoke together.

"Only because you two decide not to do the homework until the night before," Rose pointed out.

Al and Dalton glowered at her but Hagrid just laughed. "How are yer parents?" he asked courteously.

"Mum and Dad are fine… they still argue over the most illogical things but…" Rose shook her head.

"Mine are good. Last I heard they were going to a dinner party thrown by the Malfoy family…" a light went off in Al's head. "Hagrid, do you know much about their son, Scorpius?"

"Reckon' I don't but if he's anything like his parents…" Hagrid's voice took on an angry tone.

Al hurriedly changed the topic.

"So how's Fang?" he asked, gesturing to a rather old animal on the floor.

"Fang's good… nice of yeh to ask…"

"Hagrid, did you know Neville… er Professor Longbottom when he was here at Hogwarts?" Rose asked suddenly. Al shot her a perplexed look.

"Course I did! Friends with your mum and dad, Rose. Couldn't be happier to have him as a professor," Hagrid smiled.

"Well, do you know what he would be doing in Professor McGonagall's office?" she pressed.

Hagrid cleared his throat awkwardly. "No I don't and you have no business messing around in that. Sticking your noses in other people's business…" he huffed. Again, Al tactfully changed the topic and they spent the remainder of the evening avoiding their drinks and rock cakes and laughing at the hilarious stories Hagrid entertained them with well until nightfall.

* * *

_So what are all your lovely opinions? Review, if you can!!_

_xoxo_

_yours truly_


	8. Arrivals and Departures

_A/N- Alright, so it's taken me a while but here's a new chapter! For a while, I seriously entertained the notion of quitting but your reviews kept me going, I must say. Now with the impending arrival of the beginning of school, it will take me more than a few days to put up a new chapter but here's one to hopefully hold you all until then. Hope you enjoy it! _

* * *

"Harry Potter?" came a voice, followed by an official sounding knock.

"Come in," Harry answered back dismissively as two Aurors stepped into his office, closing the door behind themselves. Harry looked up with raised eyebrows; he hadn't called, or even expected a meeting. "How may I help you?"

"We're resigning. All four of us," one of them finally said, throwing down four letters of resignation onto his oakwood desk.

Harry looked from the letters to the Aurors, clearly puzzled. "You four are supposed to be protecting Malfoy," he observed, trying to keep his voice level. He knew protecting Malfoy was probably one of the worst assignments for an Auror seeing as how Malfoy had never seemed keen on having protection, but he was surprised that all four would just quit on the spot. His mind first jumped to the Imperious Curse but after taking in the two standing in front of him, that didn't appear to be the case. "You can't _all _just quit. You're Aurors for Merlin's sake!" Harry spoke through gritted teeth. But the pair just turned on their heels, as though Harry hadn't said anything at all, and walked out of the office. Harry took a few deep breaths; he wanted to retain a level head, before opening the door and scanning the hall for them.

"Ron!" Harry nearly yelled, letting himself into Ron's cubicle.

"What?" he asked, looking thoroughly surprised.

"The Aurors assigned to watch Malfoy all just _quit_."

"What's all the ruckus?" Ginny inquired, poking her head into her brother's cubicle.

"All of Malfoy's protection just walked right out the door," he said again in a dangerous whisper.

"Are you sure it was them?" Ginny asked.

"They weren't under the Imperious Curse," Harry said, feeling oddly rushed.

"Polyjuice?" Ron piped up.

Harry thought for a moment. He hadn't checked for that. "Damn…. come on! Let's see if we can find them," he instructed and all three ran down the hall, wands drawn.

But a half hour's searched proved that the Aurors, Polyjuice Impersonators or not, had left the vicinity.

"How could I have been so thick? Head of the Auror Department and I don't check for Polyjuice…" Harry muttered upon their reunion.

"Harry, you made a mistake, alright? It's not like anyone's immune to slipping up here and there. Don't beat yourself up over it," Ginny spoke consolingly but Harry had turned a deaf ear.

"Hey, mate, instead of sulking, how about we get on giving Malfoy more protection. I mean, now that Recol's after him and I guess he got to the Aurors…" Ron trailed off, wondering if Harry was registering a word of his suggestion.

"Yeah… I think…. I think it should be you, me and Gin," Harry finally said. The two redheads looked surprised. "Well, listen, if Recol got to them, we have to send our strongest out there and to be honest…" he smiled uncomfortably. "That's us."

"Right well, then, we best be off. Recol might have gotten him by now," Ginny announced, standing up and making her way towards the lift.

"Yeah… only if we're lucky," Ron muttered but Ginny had heard him and was glowering at him in a way she could have only learned from her mum.

Harry chuckled beside himself. "I'll catch up. Meet me downstairs. Got to seal my office up," he explained and rushed off to his office. But the minute the warm presences of his best mate and his wife had left him, he returned to feeling guilty. _Polyjuice?_ He had taken that in his second year and yet now, as a full-grown wizard, he hadn't thought to check for it? 'It may have even not been Polyjuice,' a soft voice in his head pointed out. Harry paused in the middle of all his Sealing Charms in order to entertain the notion. If it wasn't Polyjuice, Recol was more ingenious than Harry had thought… which only meant he would put up more of a fight. Harry was used to fighting and it wasn't like he had exactly expected a peaceful job when he became an Auror but he still had a creeping fear that Recol _would _be as bad as Voldemort…. and then what would happen?

"Oi, Potter! If we don't get going now, we'll be lucky to get to him before he dies of old age!" Ginny's voice rang out unceremoniously through the corridor. Harry finished the door in a hurry and dashed towards the lift.

"Come on, James, one more game of Exploding Snap," Daemian pressed but James shook his head. Daemian, James, Nat and Abby were sitting around the hearth of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, playing round after round of Exploding Snap. Their homework, which they had intended to do, sat untouched beside them, with the exception of Abby's, on which the ink was drying.

"Can't. Detention," James frowned, picking up his belongings and throwing his cloak on.

"Oh, for sneaking into McGonagall's office?" Nat asked, scrunching up her nose.

"Yeah…."

"But you _know _her… I mean, your parents are the Potters! Can you not get out of it?" Abby demanded. Though James knew full well that his friends didn't stick around in hopes of being introduced to his dad, he also knew they couldn't resist the occasional remark about his parents.

"Abby, that hasn't helped me the past few years, I doubt it'll help me now… but in any case, I'll pin a nametag to my chest so that Neville doesn't forget my last name and hope he lets me out a bit early," he joked before walking out of the Portrait Hole. James had grown used to detentions so the walk to the greenhouse wasn't full of foreboding but instead, he used it as time to plan out when he was going to finish that Potions essay he had yet to start work on.

The thought of his never-ending train of homework lasted him until he reached Professor Neville's office. He shifted his feet awkwardly and then knocked. Detention with Neville was always the worst because not only was he a teacher, but he was his parents' friend and always looked at him with a sort of disappointment when James landed himself in trouble. This time would be no different.

"Come in, James," Professor Longbottom called out from somewhere behind a row of potted plants.

James opened the door and winced involuntarily. He _hated_ Herbology. In fact, had it not been for the fact that Neville taught it, he would have probably been in Professor Finnigan's trying to find a way to drop the class. "I'm here, Professor. What would you like me to do?"

"Help me back my things, James," Neville smiled happily up at him. James peered behind the potted plants and, much to his surprise, saw boxes being slowly filled a menagerie of items.

"What? Whe… Why…." the boy seemed temporarily unable to form coherent speech.

"I'm going on holiday. I'll be back soon enough," Neville responded cheerily.

This answered was not enough to quench James's rising curiosity. Never one to have much tact, he instantly demanded, "Does it have anything to do with why you were in Professor McGonagall's office?"

Neville began humming an obnoxiously loud tune and refused to answer. James frowned and grudgingly began to help Neville in the packing. A few moments passed in silence before either of them spoke again. James, all the while, had been trying to come up with something to say… a way he could ask_ where_ Neville was going so that he would answer….

"So is this your first detention this year?" Neville asked conversationally. It was common knowledge that the eldest Potter child had inherited undeniable Marauder blood.

James nodded ruefully, his mind still calculating.

"Well, that's surprising but good… you know…. your dad was in detention every other day… mostly because he said V-Voldemort was back and no one believed him… I don't think he ever stalked a teacher into the headmaster's office but I could be mistaken. You'll have to ask your mum about that one… Oh! Next week is Hugo's birthday! I'll have to see if I can send a present from where I am…"

James let Neville ramble along, all the while nodding and occasionally saying, "Yeah." After an hour of listening to Neville and agreeing to whatever came out of his mouth, James ruffled his hair tiredly and collapsed into a chair. "Professor Neville… can we take a break?"

"I don't see why not," Neville replied jovially, conjuring two cups and a teapot. He began preparing two cups of tea when James spoke suddenly.

"Why won't anyone tell me anything? I'm not two..." James grumbled angrily, accepting his tea with a hushed "Thank you."

"You know, you really couldn't be anymore like your dad, even if you tried," Neville observed, sipping his scalding tea.

"Yeah, that's great and all, but my dad was in the _know_, Nev—Professor Longbottom. No one thinks I'm good enough to know what's going on…"

Before James could finish his anguished rant, Neville began laughing. James looked at his professor, clearly perplexed. "No one told your dad anything," he managed to say after he was done laughing. "He figured it out all by himself."

James, obviously unconvinced, blew into his hot tea.

"Fine, you don't have to believe me, but doesn't _figuring_ things out make the adventure all the more fun?" Neville asked pointedly.

The tea cup that was halfway to James's lips froze as the boy took in what Neville had said. "Well…" he relented.

"Now you go… go back to your dormitory and I'll finish this," Neville said as he ushered James out the door.

He trudged up the hill in the dark, thinking about what Neville had said. It wasn't until he was at the portrait of the Fat Lady that he realized his professor had probably only said that to throw James off but the idea had struck a chord with him. He would figure out where Neville was going…. _and_ he would do it before the Christmas holiday, just to prove to himself that he could.

When he went through the hole, he was surprised to find Al and Rose up, scribbling on parchment feverishly.

"And what are you two ickle firsties doing up so late?" James teased, his spirits considerably lifted.

Rose through him a scathing look and turned back to her work. "Next week is Lily's birthday so we're working on our birthday cards for her."

"Aw, how wholesome," James teased, pulling up a chair so that he joined the table. "Is Vic not making one?" he asked, noticing now that his cousin wasn't present at the table.

"She already did," Al spoke for the first time, pointing to a beautifully written card bearing the words _Happy Birthday, Lily_ sitting on the far end of the table. "And look what she found!" he added excitedly, producing a clipping from the Daily Prophet.

James scanned it and made no move to hide his shock. It was an article proclaiming Lily's birthday, how old she would be turning and guesses about how she would be celebrating it. It wasn't terribly long, in fact, it looked like it had been thrown in there because there had been nothing else to say, but still…. "Why didn't I get this sort of thing for my birthday?" he demanded. "I'm as much Harry and Ginny Potter's kid as she is," he cried indignantly.

There was a pause. "Yes, well, you're not as cute," Rose finally answered. James glared at her before pulling out a quill and parchment from his school bag and beginning to fashion a card for his sister as well. The trio worked in silence for at least half an hour. The cackling flame had died down noticeably and the warmth was slowly vanishing from the room.

"Well, I'm done," Rose announced, pushing her card towards Victoire's and yawning widely. "Night you lot," she mumbled and made her way up the staircase to the girl's dormitories.

Neither Al nor James were artistically inclined and were thus having a difficult time making a respectable card for their little sister. James, who was scribbling madly, trying to draw what he hoped looked like a Quidditch field, noticed that his brother had stopped drawing and was now sitting ramrod straight, staring into the dying embers of the flame. "Al… have you fallen asleep?" he asked, not looking up from his work.

"Do… I… never mind," Al finally answered lamely, resuming his work on a giant little "L"

"No come on, you can't bring something up and then not elaborate," James pointed out impatiently. He was getting tired and his card was no where near being done. He knew he could do it next week but between homework and would-be detentions, he doubted he would have time.

Al took a deep breath, as though he was about to jump into a pool and spoke in one breath: "Doyoueverwonderifanything'sgoingtohappentomomanddad?"

"What?" James demanded, not having understood a word his brother had just spoken.

"Do…you…ever…wonder…if…anything's…going…to…happen…to….mom….and…dad," Al repeated, this time with exaggerated pauses. James had been about to reply with a snide comment when he realized his brother was serious.

Though they were close, the two boys rarely had deep conversations and this one had thrown James aback. "Er… well…" he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I mean, dad's lost so many people…. and we haven't…."

"Are you complaining!?" James huffed, throwing his brother a contemptuous glare.

"No," Al rushed defensively.

James pretended to keep working on his card but was watching his brother shrink next to him. Al was genuinely afraid for his parents…. James suddenly felt very brotherly towards Al. "Don't worry about it," James softened despite himself.

Al nodded and slowly resumed sketching. It was a slow, deliberate sketch and James knew his brother was still worried.

"Al, we can't live worried. Do you think mum and dad live worried?" he asked.

"Maybe they do and they just don't tell us," Al mumbled to the almost completed card. The words struck James.

"They tell us everything," he finally retorted with an unconvincing tone.

"I'm done. Night, James," Al spoke slowly, yawning just as Rose had and wandering up the closest stairway, James looked at his card. It was as done as it would ever be. He trudged along after Al but the thought of Al's comment seemed to be weighing him down. What if his parents didn't tell him everything? When he stopped to think about it, why would they tell him absolutely everything? He was only twelve, after all, who was he to know everything that happened in the Auror department or in his parents' lives? Halfway up the stairs, he turned around and sat back at the table with the drying cards. Pulling out a clean sheet of parchment and a quill, he headed the letter: _Dear Mum and Dad_.

Being Malfoy's protection had turned out just as unpleasant as Ron had always thought it would be. For a bit, he had been afraid that he would have to sleep at Malfoy Manor but instead, was pleased when Harry said that after placing a number of charms on the house, they wouldn't be required as long as Malfoy was home.

It was at least eleven when Ron arrived and made himself a cup of tea… something to soothe his nerves before he went to bed.

"What happened today?" Hermione asked the minute Ron had sat down.

"Merlin, woman, do you always look at the clock mum gave you?" he asked, referring to the clock his mother had given Hermione as a wedding gift.

"Only when you don't come home at the time you said you would. Ginny told me a bit of what happened. The four Aurors resigned?" she asked, pouring herself a cup and joining Ron at the table.

"Yeah and _we_ have to protect the ungrateful git," he muttered angrily, burning his tongue on his drink.

"Well, I have a fair bit of news myself, you know," she said with a sly smile.

Ron's heart momentarily skipped a beat and hi s breathing rapidly increased. Her last announcement like this had resulted in the birth of Hugo.

"Percy's running for Minister," she said, counting off a number one on her finger. Ron had a feeling there was more news but let her present announcement register. "That's…" he began excitedly…. "what about Recol?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes, well, there have been no letters from him as of late so we think he only had a vendetta against Malfoy…" (Ron muttered: "Who wouldn't?") "Two, your brother's sleeping upstairs. An owl seems to have grown permanently attached to him and won't be quiet long enough to let Kate fall asleep. Apparently, they put a Silencing Charm on him… the owl, not George… and it _still_ kept hooting," she explained, her face conveying the confusion she felt at the matter. "And lastly…. we need to get work on furbishing a new nursery…"

Ron spat tea onto Hermione, who cleaned it off herself. "Are you… Merlin's beard…." the color drained from his face. "That's wonderful! We have to tell… everybody! And…." Ron seemed close to exploding.

"Don't worry, Ron, we'll take care of everything in the morning."

* * *

_So what did you all think? Good, bad? I know the pregnancy was a bit unexpected but... yeah. I'm trying to avoid cliche and while that does count as cliche... you'll see... I have more than a few tricks up my sleeve! So thanks for reading thus far & please review! Much love!_

_xoxo_

_yours truly_


	9. Anger, Danger & Grudges Galore

_A/N- Again, sorry for taking so long to post this! Band camp is a time-consumer and with school starting and it being my senior year and all... well, you get my point. But I will NOT abandon this story. I will see it through. This chapter is more of a necessity for the next one to occur... it's a connector so do with that information what you will. Thank you so much for reviewing! They really do keep me going when it's one o'clock and I'm trying to think of something to write. You all are amazing._

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"For the umpteenth time, Ronald, I _know_ your wife is pregnant. I was there when she found out," George huffed irritably as he tucked into the eggs and sausage Hermione had made. It was three in the morning and Ron would have to leave for work soon, but George and Hermione had woken up at the ungodly hour in hopes that Ron, for some unknown reason, would know how to get rid of the owl that was hooting merrily from the chair next to George.

Ron frowned at his brother and sipped the hot coffee tentatively. "So you don't know _why_ the owl won't leave?"

"No. I told you, I was… standing outside the joke shop," he muttered quickly, "when this owl hurled itself at me. It had looked like it was hurt so I helped it out a bit… and now it won't leave!" The owl fluttered its wings as if to verify the story.

Ron snorted into his drink and Hermione was trying, and successfully so, not to laugh at the seriousness at which George was handling the problem with. "If Hermione can't do it, what makes you reckon' I can?" he asked curiously.

"I'm desperate. If I hadn't already tried Hermione, Ginny, Harry, Katie, Bill, Fleur, mum and dad, do you think I would've asked you?"

Ron looked slightly crestfallen. Hermione patted his shoulder softly. "Well, I don't know how to get rid of your owl. It's like the new Fred or something," he muttered, now grumpy. A resounding silence swallowed the room whole as all three looked to each other.

"It's not Fred, it's just a bloody owl," George yelled, standing up abruptly. The owl shook his head. George angrily shoved the owl off its perch on the chair but it caught itself midair and flew over to the counter, all the while shaking his head disapprovingly. "Damn that owl," George whispered before thundering upstairs, the owl flying behind him, hooting reproachfully all the while.

"You know better than to bring Fred into anything," Hermione sighed, picking up George's still full plate and carrying it to the sink. She could have done it by magic but she wanted something to do.

"I know… I shouldn't have done that… but honestly, I don't know why that owl's acting as though its George's other half. For all we know…" Another silence echoed off the walls as Ron's sentence dangled precariously in the air.

"Well, before we jump to the conclusion that Fred somehow _sent_ George an owl, maybe we should try and be reasonable about it first," Hermione offered, not haughtily but rationally.

"'Suppose," Ron's grumble was barely audible. He could feel Hermione's gaze on him but did not raise his eyes to meet it. He knew it was a stupid thought, that Fred could someone send an owl from the afterlife but it had temporarily given him a feeling of elation which he felt daft to own up to. "_Get up and go, you lazy…"_ Ron fumbled for the watch and shut it off before it could finish the sentence. "I gotta go protect Malfoy," he explained but not without a hint of bitterness.

"Alright…. I guess you don't know when you'll be home but I'll stay and…" Hermione began worriedly. Even after years and years of risking their lives, Hermione had never quite gotten used to the idea that Ron might one day not return home.

"No, don't wait. You're a right mess when you don't get enough sleep," Ron joked, standing up and kissing her swiftly on the cheek before turning and heading towards the front door.

"Wish your brother good luck on the campaign!" she called out after him.

"Will do," he promised before walking out to the mailbox and disappearing with a _pop_.

Harry and Ginny, who had entrusted Lily into the care of Bill and Fleur, arrived at the hill a mile away from Malfoy Manor only seconds after Ron. "Congratulations, Ron!" Ginny squealed instantly, throwing her arms around him.

"Yeah, congratulations, mate. Don't know how you found time with all that's going on…" Harry trailed off teasingly, patting his friend on the back. Ron's ears turned a tomato red but he merely muttered a few words of thanks in acknowledgement.

"So do you have any ideas for a name? Well, I suppose not, it is rather early…" Ginny conversed giddily.

"Gin, I just found out yesterday and while I am very happy, I don't even know if it's a girl or boy…" Ron protested but Harry knew there was an undeniable happiness in his voice. And the conversation of a new baby Weasley carried them well past the ornate gates of the manor. Finally, a sense of foreboding won them all over and any chattering of pleasant things instantly ceased. Even though Malfoy claimed to have no more affiliation with the Dark Arts, the house seemed to breathe a sinister life of its own, as though it hungered for more of the blood and torture it had seen under the reign of its previous owners.

"You know, I reckon this would be a great vacation spot," Ron added sarcastically as he, Harry and Ginny began the long and tedious process of identifying themselves to all the protections that surrounded the house. He was secret-keeper for the Malfoys, much to his dismay. The protections were merely regulatory.

A few moments later, they had closed the large door behind themselves and had been consumed from the pervasive darkness of the foyer. It was hardly five in the morning and their assignment was to protect Malfoy while interfering as little as possible in his day-to-day routine. However, much to their expectation, Malfoy insisted on harassing his protection so much that Harry had had to promise Ron a free night of babysitting to get him to come back for the second day. "I thought you weren't supposed to alter my day-to-day routine," a sneering voice rang out from the top of the main staircase. Ron, Harry and Ginny all looked up unwillingly.

"Is waking up not part of your day-to-day routine, Malfoy?" Ron shot back vehemently.

"Not at this hour, it isn't," Malfoy retorted simply before turning on his heel and clomping to his room, no doubt.

As saoon as they heard the door to Malfoy's bedroom click close, Ron began muttering viciously under his breath. "Acts like he's the one doing us a ruddy favor…."

Ginny made a motion to shush him and flounced off into the dining room and conjoining areas, no doubt making sure no one else was present. Harry and Ron, instantly picking up on her lead, also dispersed to check the remaining parts of the house but a thorough search yielded nothing.

"Harry, I was just wondering…" Ginny began conversationally when they had all rejoined in the study, a large, foreboding room that contained an air of intimidation. However, a gleaming, silver otter broke off her sentence as it did a few twirls in the air and opened its mouth to speak in a voice that sounded very much like Hermione's.

"I need one of you to come talk to me," the otter instructed and with a last flip vanished into smoke, leaving the room as dark as it had been before.

Ron, Harry and Ginny all exchanged glances uneasily. Hermione wouldn't have called them back for anything that wasn't urgent. A knot was untying and then retying itself in the pit of Harry's stomach but he tried to retain some level of visible cool. "Gin, you can go. Come back as soon as you can," he spoke and Ginny, with only a curt nod of her head, cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself before marching off through the foyer, out of the front door and off of the grounds to Apparate.

For a while, neither Harry nor Ron spoke. Instead, Harry took to pacing and Ron rubbed his eyes wearily. The sun was breaking in the horizon and rays of orange and pink were shooting across the mist. The beauty of the scene only seemed to mock Harry's suspense leading him to stand up abruptly and draw the heavy curtains close. After a bit, he heard the Malfoys begin to stir and dread began seeping through his skin and finding a way into his every nerve. If they Malfoys were waking, Ginny had been gone a while.

"Come on, mate," Ron muttered, breaking the silence that had started to become overpowering. He stood up slowly and made his way out into the sitting room.

Harry rose to follow, shooting a last glance at the front door as he past. It swung open and there stood Ginny, as though he had conjured her. "What happened? What'd Hermione want?" he asked instantly.

"Alright, well, Hermione got another Recol letter," she explained as Harry led her to the sitting room where Ron was.

"What'd it say?" he prodded.

"Hold on, she made me a copy," Ginny muttered, digging into the depths of her robes and coming up with an empty hand.

"Well, where is it, Gin?" Ron demanded impatiently.

Ginny sighed irritably. "It works a bit like the Hand of Glory; I'm the only one that can see it…"

"What good would that do us?" Ron interrupted.

"I can read it to you," she explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She began reading, keeping Harry and Ron absolutely still with suspense until she made a move to fold the letter and tucked it back in her robes.

"So he's going to try and get rid of Percy now, too?" Ron asked, his face completely pale.

"He'll try to get rid of anyone that tries to run for Minister," Ginny pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Wait, why does he want to be Minister so badly again?"

"He says there's not enough action being done against half-breeds and Muggle borns," Ginny explained knowledgably.

"So that means… Percy…. we have to send _him_ some protection," Harry began, his head lolling with the information he had just received.

"Yes but for now, he should be okay. We weren't the only people Hermione told. Percy's at Shell Cottage right now and it's under the Fidelius Charm. Bill and Fleur are with him," Ginny elaborated.

"And he calls for my immediate resignation, does he?" Harry inquired.

Ginny nodded mutely.

"Fat change that'll happen," he murmured through gritted teeth.

* * *

It was Saturday morning breakfast and four rather large packages fell down to their respective owners at the Gryffindor tables. "What's that?" asked Dalton, stuffing a strip of bacon into his mouth. Rose and Al ripped open their packages and found pictures from Lily's birthday party. The awing of some seventh year girls to their right signaled to them that Victoire had gotten the same thing.

"Look! A letter from Teddy!" Al screamed, almost completely beside himself with excitement.

"Who's Teddy?" Dalton frowned, confusion sketched onto his every feature.

"Teddy Lupin… he's our… he's basically like our cousin," Al nodded, ripping open the parchment.

"_Lupin_?" Dalton almost choked on his bacon, eyes wide from shock. "Do you know every wizard with a famous last name or just the more recent ones?" he asked incredulously.

"Just the more recent ones," Rose answered, laughing as she tucked the pictures back into the box they had come from. She began tucking into her eggs, leaving Dalton with a very shocked look on his face, looking from Al's letter to Rose with an awed expression. "You know, you can—"

"Students, may I have your attention, please?" A firm voice wafted out throughout the room, causing everyone to sit a bit taller and listen as the Headmistress spoke. "As some of you will no doubt know by now," she began with a meaningful look at the Gryffindor table. Al had a sneaking suspicious it was directed at James. "… Professor Longbottom has left on holiday. The exact date of his return is still yet unknown but for the time being, we are pleased to announce that beginning Monday, Professor Lovegood will be filling the post. She has taken time out of her world travel's to bestow upon your young minds, knowledge that she has accumulated over the years."

There was a polite smattering of applause as a blonde witch inclined her head in a motion of greeting.

"Luna's teaching?" Al asked disbelievingly, the letter from Teddy, already read, hanging limp in his hand.

"I suppose so," Rose answered but not without some apprehension. She loved Luna but…. Luna did tend to err on the side of the far-fetched. "Why did Neville leave?"

"I dunno," Al frowned. "But I reckon James knows. After breakfast we'll go ask him," he said decidedly and the three ate the rest of their breakfast in hurried silence. After they were probably fed and watered, they launched themselves from the table and started making their way to the Quidditch pitch. James had mentioned tying out for Chaser and if Al knew his brother at all, he would use the beautiful morning to practice.

Almost as soon as the three first years had settled themselves into the stands, the unmistakable shadow of James emerged from the castle, trailed by Nat, Abby and Daemian, all except one shouldering broomsticks.

"Oi, Potter!" Rose called out once James was within earshot. James looked around for a minute for the source of the noise, very obviously confused, but broke into a sprint the minute he saw them.

"What?" he asked, cheeks pink from running, hair surprisingly windswept.

Rose and Al waved him up the stands and with a wary look, he mounted his broom and flew up so that he was level with them. "What?" he repeated again, this time a bit suspicious.

"Why's Neville leaving? We figured that if anyone would know, it would be you. Didn't you have detention with him sometime this past week?" Al asked, running down to the end of the stands so that he was only a foot away from his brother.

"Yeah," James answered, suddenly perking up. He had been having a hard time finding people who found Neville leaving a suspicious as he had. "We figure there's only a handful of professors who know the real reason why he left and there's one we haven't bothered yet." He paused for dramatic effect.

"Professor Finnigan."

"Professor Lovegood," Al said at the same time as his brother. James' brown eyes opened wide.

"Alright, listen," he began, his voice an urgent whisper. "Tonight, me, Abby and Nat are going in to talk to Seamus. I'm going to borrow your Cloak so that Daemian can keep watch in the hall. I don't think Professor McGonagall would take it too well if she heard me questioning some other professor. You, Rose and Dalton can go talk to Luna. She'll probably be settling into the greenhouses so I reckon you won't run into trouble there."

Al's skin tingled with excitement. "Sounds good."

"Victoire's holding open the Room of Requirement for us so we can meet afterwards and talk about what we found out," James continued.

"This sounds like a big production," Al noted.

"No, just a Potter-Weasley & Co. production," James grinned before soaring straight up into the air. Al shook his head at his brother and turned back to Rose and Dalton, relaying to them the entire plan.

"The bit about the Room of Requirement sounds a _bit_ unnecessary," Rose began, biting her lip. "Why can't we just meet in the common room?"

"Because James has always had a flair for the dramatic," Al sighed.

"Well, sounds like a plan," Rose finally nodded, standing up and smoothing out her robes.

Dalton beamed with anticipation. "Al, why is your life so interesting?"

"Your life, too. You're coming with me," Al said happily. "And isn't your dad an internationally renown Quidditch star? I think I have a poster of him in my room," he laughed.

"Yeah but your dad's Harry Potter, the reason we're all alive right now."

Al stopped walking and stared uncomfortably at the lake off in the distance. Rose, who had been silent the whole time, cleared her throat noisily. "Hey, you lot, let's go steal some food from the kitchen. I rushed through breakfast."

Al was ever-grateful for Rose's knack at breaking awkward silences. "Yeah, I'm kind of hungry, too."

Rose plowed straight ahead but Dalton pulled Al back. "Look, before you go running around with the wrong idea, I'm not just your friend because you're a Potter," he said quite pointedly.

"I didn't think you were," Al sniffed but inside, a wave of relief washed over him.

"Good," Dalton nodded and then the two boys locked eyes, broke into devilish and charged at Rose, knocking her to the ground and falling down in the process themselves.

"You boys are so immature!" Rose huffed as she stood up and brushed bits of grass and dirt off herself.

"We were only kidding, Rose," Dalton sighed, helping her brush a twig out of her hair. "I meant to ask, what did Teddy's letter to you say, Al?"

Al suddenly began coughing as though he were choking. "I can't believe I forgot to tell you! Aunt Hermione's pregnant!"

Rose screamed and looked as though she were about to faint. "I'm going to have a…. a…"

"Yeah, the letter said that your mom had written it in a letter to you but I guess…."

"I never really looked for a letter after I saw the picture," Rose breathed, her voice tremulous.

"That's amazing! Congratulations!" Dalton cheered.

"I'm sure James and Victoire already know," Al added, now more excited than he had been before.

The trio soon picked up their trek to the castle once more, Al and Dalton extremely excited and Rose slowly recovering from the shock. "Look who it is," Dalton sneered under his breath. At the entrance to the castle, a very stern-looking Professor Milhelm was talking in hushed tones with a boy Al knew by sight to be Scorpius Malfoy.

"I hate that teacher," Rose scowled. Al and Dalton exchanged shocked looks. For Rose to hate a teacher was a very rare occurrence. The three lagged behind until they were sure Milhelm was gone before walking up to the grand doors.

"Eavesdropping, were you?" Scorpius demanded, an unpleasant expression on his face.

"No," Rose answered calmly.

"Don't act all innocent. I know who you were, son and daughter of the three biggest snoops Hogwarts has ever seen," he jeered.

Al clenched his fist around his wand.

"Is this how we're going to base relationships? Off of what our parents did? I'm not holding it against you that my mum and dad saved your dad's life…." Rose continued and Al was glad she was able to maintain a level-head.

Scorpius, unable to come up with a suitable retort, continued to frown. "Scorpius Malfoy," he introduced reluctantly.

"Rose Weasley."

"Albus Potter."

"Dalton Wood."

All three introduced themselves in turn. A tense moment followed before Scorpius' gaze softened a bit. "Good to meet you," he mumbled before tearing off towards a crowd of Slytherins congregated in the field.

"What a strange boy," Rose mused as they began their way up the staircase.

"No better than his dad," Dalton spoke angrily. "Dad told me all about him."

"Yes and my dad told me to beat him on every test but is there any reason to carry on our parents' grudges?"

"Well, Scorpius' dad didn't attempt to kill _your_ dad," Al muttered. Rose paused. Al rarely talked about his dad's past unless he absolutely had to.

"True," she acquiesced. "Oh! We were going to go get food!" she cried, suddenly remembering.

"I think that can wait," Dalton piped up, realizing now that Al was in a sour mood. "We've got planning to do."

* * *

_A/N- So what'd you guys think? Review, pretty please!_

_xoxo_

_yours truly_


	10. Recurrences

_A/N- Alright so this chapter came pretty quickly but don't get used to it folks. I really am trying to keep up and not take too long but you know how life can be. On another note, I am not giving up this story nor am I giving up The Nine People You Meet In The Afterlife. Some of the jokes in this chapter will only be funny if you have read that story. It's a bit like a companion piece but you can read this without ever having read the other. So, without any more chatter from me, I present to you, Chapter 10! Oh, and thank you for the lovely reviews. Your response is the reason I was writing at four o' clock this morning._

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Nightfall came faster than anyone would have thought it would. James, Abby and Nat sat in the Gryffindor common room. Daemian had gone up to get the Cloak from Al. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Nat asked a bit worriedly. 

"No," James answered simply, staring into the cackling fire. "But you can't go through life sure of everything," he pointed out. Nat nodded, resigning herself to accept the answer and curled herself up in the armchair. There was a comfortable silence that elapsed and soon, everyone felt a certain sense of comfort about what they were about to do. James had always been the sort of person that exuded comfort.

"Ready?" Al chimed as he, Dalton and Daemian came down the stairs, clutching the Cloak.

"Wait!" Rose squealed as she nearly tripped down the stairs in her attempt to get to the common room quickly.

"Alright, so Victoire and Emilie are in the Room of Requirement already…" James stood up, gathering the map in his arms, a light blush creeping into his cheeks.

"Who's Emilie?" Abby demanded instantly, her face now scowling at James.

"Victoire's friend," he murmured, the bush in his cheeks intensifying. Al had to work his hardest to stifle his laughter. So James had a crush on a seventh year and Abby had a crush on James. Typical for James to be out of his league and not notice that one of his closest friends fancied him.

"Well, then, let's be off?" Al announced, not wanting a full-scale fight to break out between Abby and James before they were able to set the plan into motion. Everyone nodded and began pouring out of the Portrait Hole. It wasn't curfew yet so they didn't receive a lecture from the Fat Lady as they went past. Halfway down the corridor, Daemian donned the Cloak and the second years trotted off to the left while the first years continued along forward.

"Do you think asking Luna'll do any good?" Dalton asked conversationally as they maneuvered their way down the moving staircases.

"It can't hurt to try," Al shrugged as one of the stairways swung unexpectedly to the left. "Rose, I have a question," he began suddenly. "Remember a long time ago, you said that James's friends had told you things you wouldn't tell him?"

Rose nodded.

"Well, what exactly were they?"

"If I didn't tell him, what makes you think I'll tell you?" she shot back smartly, grinning devilishly.

Al frowned and turned to Dalton. "Daughter of her mother, this one is." Dalton sniggered but stopped under Rose's glare.

The rest of the walk to the greenhouses went by relatively quickly between sharp retorts about Rose and playful comments in return. "Here we are," Rose sighed as she heaved open the door and allowed her brother and friend to scamper in before her.

"Who's there?" a distinctly airy voice wafted through the air to the three children.

"It's us, Professor Lovegood…. it's Al, Rose and Dalton," he continued even though he was relatively sure that Luna didn't know Dalton.

"How nice of you to come and visit," she said as she floated towards the room where Al was standing. Luna Lovegood looked vastly different than she had during her time at Hogwarts. There were some unmistakable qualities, the radish earrings, the airy voice and the flowing, pale blonde hair, but for the most part, she was unrecognizable. Her face had matured into more womanly features and she had grown a surprising amount taller. Even her neat, dark blue robes hardly suggested fascination with nonexistent nargles.

"We've come to see if you needed any help setting up your office," Al supplied awkwardly, wishing he possessed some of his brother's charm.

"Oh," Luna breathed, looking startled. "I thought you had come down to ask me if I knew where Neville had gone," she stated plainly, turning and walking back into her office, her cloak billowing behind her.

Al, Rose and Dalton stood there uncomfortably for a bit. Luna never had lost her knack for speaking uncomfortable truths.

Dalton pursued his lips, a public sign that he wasn't about to say anything. Al tilted his head towards Luna's door and shrugged.

"Well, that could have been part of it," Rose agreed, taking tentative steps to the office. "Do you know though, Aunt Luna? Where Neville went? Is it something important?" she asked, now in the office looking up at Luna with bright, curious eyes.

"Why of course it was something important. Do you think Neville would have gone if it wasn't something of utmost importance?" Luna asked dreamily as she scooped up some unrecognizable potted plants and began scattering them around the room generously. Rose looked over her shoulder and exchanged excited glances with Al and Dalton.

"We didn't think he would but we were wondering if we could be of any help… to whatever Neville was planning with Professor McGonagall."

"Your offering is kind but with half of the Order of the Phoenix in on it, I daresay they have enough help," Luna nodded, now going around with what resembled a watering can and spraying all the plants with an orange liquid.

"Then could we at the very least know what's going on?" Rose prodded.

"No one feels the need to keep us informed around these parts," Al added while Dalton continued to linger towards the back, lips pursed and soaking in the scene.

"You're Dalton Wood?" Luna asked, snubbing both questions and looking straight at the little blond boy.

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded quietly.

"And you are here because, as friend to a Potter and Weasley, they bring you into all sorts of adventures?" she asked serenely as she continued going around with her watering tin.

"Yes, professor. And I think it's important that we know…"

"Why is it important that you know?" Luna inquired, her voice as calm as ever.

All three faltered as none had an answer to the question.

"Oh, Aunt Luna, you always confuse me," Rose laughed, flopping down into one of the blue arm chairs. The tension in the room seemed to have broken and both Al and Dalton sat themselves down, smiles playing on their faces.

"Good. After confusion usually comes answer or two."

* * *

Harry stormed into the house, throwing the simple oak door closed behind him. It was well into the early hours of the morning, the still time between sunfall and sunrise. He and Ginny had arrived home at least three hours ago, had relieved Katie of her babysitting duties and had hardly sat down to an incredibly late dinner when Harry had up and ran out. He was angry. He was confused. This Recol character was beginning to change the way Harry saw things, now his vision was tinged with anger.

"Harry James Potter!" Ginny reprimanded from the kitchen where she sat, hair up in a messy bun, a steaming cup of tea held in both her hands. "You'll wake Lily."

Harry glared at her with unmistakable anger for a moment before it seemed that every ounce of energy rushed out of his fingertips, leaving him hardly able to stand. "Sorry, Gin," he murmured, walking past the kitchen and towards the bedroom.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked in a voice highly reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley.

"Bed," he shot back matter-of-factly.

"Come here," she ordered though her voice had considerably softened. Once Harry was standing crankily at the doorway, she considered him thoughtfully. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he murmured immaturely.

Ginny smiled resignedly. "Harry, we're married now. It's not like you can just ignore me and scamper off to your dormitory while I stay down in the common room being harassed about you by Romilda Vane. After nineteen years, do you still have trouble trusting me?" she asked. Her voice was free of any accusations and this made Harry's heart clench guiltily.

"It's not that. I just have things to worry about and I don't want you to worry about them, too."

Ginny laughed. "So you think Recol's all yours now?" she asked, sipping her tea tentatively. "He's my problem as much as he is yours."

"He's not calling for _your_ immediate resignation from the Ministry. He's not threatening _your_ fami…" Harry trailed off and dragged himself over to the chair across Ginny, collapsing into it.

"No, he's not calling for my resignation but he is threatening my family as much as he is yours," she pointed out with a mischievous smile.

"But in the words of one of our children, you can't live your whole life worried."

"Who said that?"

"Al wrote me and told me that James had given him that bit of information," Ginny informed him. "It came in just today but you've been so busy storming about, I don't think you've had time to read it."

After a tired silence, Ginny spoke again. "Harry, we're going to get through this."

"How do you put up with all this, Gin?" Harry asked randomly, slamming his fist onto the table.

"Put up with what?"

"Everything! I mean, when you married me, you probably weren't getting ready for a lifetime of threats and danger and…."

Somewhere between all his yelling, he had not noticed Ginny get up from her chair and wrap her arms around his neck tenderly. "I wasn't expecting a perfectly happy ending, if that's what you're trying to say. Honestly, Harry, you know me better than this. I was in more danger my sixth year than I was in all my other years combined and you were no where to be found. No, I was in danger because of my own doing. Because, I, like you, have this strong inclination towards what's right," she finished, kissing his cheek.

"Ginny," was all Harry could muster through the wave of relief that was washing over him. He had needed to be reminded that Ginny was making these decisions out of her own lot, that she didn't hold it against Harry that deranged people like Voldemort and now Recol were drawn to him.

"We'll be fine," Ginny nodded and though Harry knew it wasn't her place to promise anything of that sort, it made him feel considerably better. And then, with surprising agility, he jumped out of his chair, swung around and swept Ginny off her feet. She was a fair amount smaller than he was so it wasn't incredibly challenging. Ginny squealed in laughter as Harry lumbered off towards the bedroom.

Harry shushed her playfully. "You'll wake Lily," he warned before kicking the door closed behind him.

* * *

Daemian rubbed his eyes wearily, laying languidly on one of the bean bags in the Room of Requirement. "James, where's Al? I want to go to sleep," he complained, rolling over uncomfortably no his side.

"If it's taken him this long, he's probably figured something out," James implored unconvincingly. He looked at Emilie out of the corner of his eye nervously but upon seeing her humming patiently, the tension in his face was considerably relaxed.

"I think James is right," Victoire rushed to his defense and now, having successfully persuaded a seventh year, there were no more arguments. After another twenty minutes had elapsed, the large door to the room opened and Al, Rose and Dalton fell inside.

"What took you so long?" James demanded, casting a backwards glance to see if Emilie was appreciating his very masculine way of dealing with the situation. Al had to work to stifle a laugh and he could see Abby rolling her eyes dismissively.

"We were talking to Luna," Al answered back simply.

"Did you find out anything?" Nat added in, now excited that they had received new arrivals.

"Well, not anything in particular, no," Rose frowned, sitting down gently on one of the bean bags. There were groans of disappointment.

"But we did figure out that Neville's doing something important for the Order," Dalton supplied helpfully.

"That's a far cry better than anything we found out," Abby observed tersely.

"How did your interview go?"

"Well, Seamus wouldn't say anything. He just said that Neville was in fact gone and no one really knew when he would be coming back," James explained. "And then he asked if I had a subscription to the Daily Prophet and I said no but that Victoire did and he said he would recommend canceling it," James frowned now.

"I don't think that the whole Daily Prophet situation is relevant to Neville," Emilie said from her spot near Victoire.

"No, someone he hates probably works there or something," Daemian added, laughing at his own joke.

The nine students stayed in the room a bit longer, laughing and sipping the hot cocoa the house elves had brought up. Finally, when a grandfather clock chimed midnight, they decided to disperse. "Emilie is in Ravenclaw so she'll be heading up a different way," Victoire announced to whomever it concerned.

"Alright, well, have a safe trip up, Emilie. I'll keep an eye on the map and make sure you don't get caught," James offered gallantly. Abby _accidentally_ stepped on his toe.

"Thank you, James," Emilie said graciously as she hurried along the corridor.

The rest of the group crept up quietly to their common room, said the password ("Blast-Ended Skrewt") and dispersed to their own respective dormitories.

The next morning, James had trouble waking, not being accustomed to going off so little sleep. It took the combined efforts of Daemian and Sebastian to prop him out of his bed and ensure that he made his way down to breakfast.

"Hey, James!" chirped Rose as he passed her on his way down. He looked at his cousin with a look of utter confusion. How on earth did she have that much energy? Sighing heavily, he followed his two friends until they reached the Great Hall.

"I asked Victoire to lend me her copy of the Daily Prophet when she was done," James spoke between yawns.

It was a bright morning with nary a cloud in the sky. The staff table seemed to accept Luna's present naturally and everything ran smoothly as students tucked into porridge, kippers, toast and eggs. It wasn't until that Victoire Weasley handed James the Daily Prophet with a trembling hand that nothing seemed right. The headline proclaimed everything he needed to know: RECOL LETTERS CALL FOR RESTRICTIONS ON HALF-BREEDS AND POTTER RESIGNATION: _story inside on page 4_.

While James was used to seeing his last name in the newspaper, he had never before seen it in this context. He tore open the newspaper and scanned page 4 quickly. He gathered the general idea and turned to face Victoire, who was still hovering over him like a sort of guardian angel.

"My dad's in danger, isn't he?" James asked meekly.

Victoire nodded.

James folded the paper neatly, handed it back to his cousin and began stirring his porridge slowly; looking into it as though it held the answers to his problems. He had wanted adventure but this was more than he could handle. There was a different between simple marauding and full-on _adventure_… or was there? Making sure no one was paying him any attention (aside from the older students who received the Daily Prophet who were giving him pitying looks) and drew the Marauder's Map from underneath his cloak, where he kept it at all times.

Instead of reciting the usual sentence which would gain him access to the map, he tried a technique he had seen his dad use once before. Producing a quill and ink from his bag, he scribbled "_Can I handle this sort of adventure_?"

For a while, the parchment remained resolutely blank, as though those who would answer were cleaning the house or whatnot. Finally, when James was on the verge of giving up hope, a messy scrawl appeared.

_Are you James Potter or not?_

He quickly answered. _Yes._

_Then there's no question about it_, a different handwriting scrawled where his response used to be.

_But keep an eye out, we don't want to see you here anytime soon_ a third handwriting wrote.

_I second what Sirius said… Oh and James, I doubt I've ever written to you before. This is Lily, your grandmum and I expressly forbid you from getting into a huge predicament_ a very feminine writing said.

_Oh, Lils, you're confusing the boy now. And this is supposed to be the Marauder's Map, not the Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, Lily, Fred, Mad-Eye, Tonks, Albus Map. What's next? You'll expect us to let Snivellus join?_ A familiar handwriting scrawled.

The writing continued but, stifling a map, James tucked it away, feeling a little bit more confident but infinitely more confused.

* * *

_So there it was. Please review now, dearies!_

_xoxo_

_yours truly_


	11. Intermission

I'm not dead

I'm not dead.

Au contraire, I'll be picking up this story again as my summer project.

So for those of you who have been patient with me,

You have my eternal gratitude

And within the next three days, expect the long-awaited

Chapter 11.

Xoxo yours truly


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